


All That You Are

by asphodelknox



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst, Blood and Injury, Dunkirk Au, First Love, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Injuries, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Serious Injuries, War Fic, i promise no one dies, lots of sad and longing letters, real love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-27 12:47:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14425731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asphodelknox/pseuds/asphodelknox
Summary: Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson meet on a civilian boat, taking them home after their rescue from Dunkirk. Harry is won over by Louis’s smile and his plea to write letters but would never guess the long stretch of war would give him something he never imagined could be his.Written for the 2018 Flicker Fic Fest! Based on Since We’re Alone.





	All That You Are

**Author's Note:**

> I started this little story in August of 2017 and figured it would be a drabble or something I never finished. Then I joined the Flicker Fic Fest. Since We're Alone is my favorite song on the album and it was only appropriate to write a story about that desire to be alone with the person you love and how magic things can happen when you open yourself up to someone like that. All That You Are is the journey of that desire. 
> 
> I tried to be as historically accurate as I could, but I know I made mistakes. I'd appriciate a kind message on tumblr if there's any glaring inaccuracies. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this sweet story. I enjoyed writing it and I feel in love with these boys all over again in the process.
> 
> Many, many, many thanks to my fabulous friends, without whom this story probably wouldn’t have seen the light of day: [Vivi](http://hlficpraise.tumblr.com/), [India](https://indiaalphawhiskey.tumblr.com/), [Brit](https://haloeverlasting.tumblr.com/). Thanks for letting me use you three as sounding boards, panic tamers, and constructive inputers. 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** This is a work of fiction with mature and/or explicit content that is not suitable for readers under the age of 18. I absolutely do not condone minors reading this work of fiction.

June 2, 1940

“Home!”

Harry felt more than heard the rustle and ripple of excitement fill the boat following the exhilarated call. He picked his head up from where he had held it in his hands for the better part of an hour and saw the White Cliffs of Dover in the distance. His stomach dropped to his knees, even as the titters of the men around him grew stronger. They were all eager to return home.

Harry wasn’t. He felt like his heart incrementally slowed down the closer they got to English shores.

Someone clapped him on the shoulder. “We’ve made it home after all, mate!” A brunette with startling blue eyes sat down next to Harry, his eyes drinking in the sight of the cliffs. He looked to be about Harry’s age, maybe a little older, and had a smile lurking in the corners of his eyes. It was the most refreshing thing Harry had seen in weeks. The man with the blue eyes turned and looked at Harry. “You alright?”

Harry shrugged, pausing a moment before he spoke. “Just not that eager to go home, I guess.” The boat continued on its way, the cliffs beginning to pass out of their eyesight as they neared Dover.

The man gazed questioningly at Harry. “Don’t you want to see your family?” he asked earnestly.

Harry paused, thinking of his older sister Gemma, how she would probably tease him for being reluctant to return home. How his mother would hold him close and bake him cookies to take with him once he got sent back out again. The longing for home filled his senses.

“I do.” He said. “But we had to retreat.” He whispered it, not wanting any of the other men on the boat to hear him. It was hard to keep things private in the military. He felt ashamed. They hadn’t been able to save themselves at Dunkirk… were they worth saving at all?

Blue Eyes grazed his face and lowered his voice, leaning in closer to Harry. “Sure, but they’ll all just be happy we came home in one piece. No one wants a repeat of the Great War.” The way he spoke, the way he looked only at Harry, made him feel like they were in their own world. “Besides, this way we get to go home for a bit, I reckon. I miss me mum’s cooking.”

Harry let out the beginnings of a chuckle and nodded, his hair still damp from the sea slapping against his forehead. “My mum does make a good Sunday roast.”

Blue Eyes let out a bright laugh, sending tingles straight to Harry’s belly. “We all think our mums make good Sunday roast.” He continued to chuckle and Harry felt his shoulders loosen, felt the rest of his chuckle catch up, and a smile creep onto his face.

“I’m Louis, by the way.” Louis held his hand out.

“Harry.” He shook Louis’s hand. For a second, that feeling of suspension in their own world lingered. He looked at Louis’s face and the feeling wrapping itself around their fingers, circling up their arms, filling Harry with lightness, just for the moment. Louis grinned at him. “Where’s home for you?” Harry asked.

“Doncaster.” Louis replied. “Me mum, sisters, and brother are waiting for me to get home, I reckon. You?”

“Cheshire. My mum and sister are there.” He placed his head back in his hands and the shame returned as he thought about getting off the train in Holmes Chapel. Would people think they were failures? He was used to the feeling, not that Gemma or his mother cared.

Harry had only been stationed a few months before Dunkirk. He hadn’t seen any action or saved any lives. The war hadn’t been as bad for him, not like other regiments had experienced. He wondered what Louis had seen of war, what Louis had felt during Dunkirk. He seemed so positive now.

He felt a delicate hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright, mate. They’ll just be glad we’re coming home. You’ll see.”

Harry saw Louis’s soft grin, drank it up like a man in the desert. It alighted on his heart and he wanted to believe Louis. He really did.

He nodded and swallowed, grasping around his foggy mind for something to start up a conversation, one that didn’t reek of war. “What do you do, at home?”

Louis shrugged. “I work in a bookstore. A family friend owns it and I help him out on the weekdays.”

“A bookstore?” Harry had to grin. “I spend an impractical amount of time at my library. Do you come home with books all the time?”

Louis chuckled. “Always. I tried bringing a few with me, but I ended up giving them all away. I guess we’re all a bit starved for literature out here.”

“What did you bring with you?” Harry asked, feeling his interest in Louis piqued. He could talk about books for hours.

“The Sword in the Stone, Murder on the Orient Express, and Out of the Silent Planet.” Louis replied.

“I loved Out of the Silent Planet!” Harry said. “Lewis is a genius.” He glanced at Louis curiously. “That’s quite the variety to bring to war.”

Louis shrugged. “I wanted to bring stories of adventure that didn’t have anything to do with the adventure I’m facing. I wanted something to remind me of the bigger picture. I don’t want to lose my humanity.”

He said it with nonchalance, but Harry sensed that under his calm exterior, there were heartfelt motives for choosing those stories. He also thought to his own bag where a battered copy of Out of the Silent Planet was nestled on top of a few changes of underwear.

“Sometimes I feel like we have no choice.” Harry said, watching as the boat neared the shore. His time with Louis was almost up and, recklessly, he felt a chance to bare his soul. Louis seemed a good listener. “I’m worried about what I could become at the end of this. My grandfather came back…” he shrugged and left the sentence hanging.

“Mine too.” Louis said softly, placing his hand on Harry’s arm. Harry stared at it, so gentle that it surprised him with the strength of the squeeze Louis delivered. “Tell you what,” Louis rummaged around in his pockets and pulled out a pencil and a piece of paper, scribbling something down. “Why don’t we write? I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to gab to me mum about everything I’ve seen here and most of the guys in my regiment are… well, not the best conversationalists. Except for Liam. Zayn’s alright but he doesn’t talk much. It might be nice to be able to write to each other as the war goes on.” He handed Harry the piece of paper. He had scribbled his address on it.

Harry let out a hard breath and nodded. “Thanks.”

“Tell me thanks by writing me something.” Louis said with a smirk, the twinkle in his eye teasing Harry out of his gloom. “Tell me about your stint at home and what you do next. It’ll be nice to get mail from someone other than my mum. She just worries at me and tells me stories of my siblings.”

Harry chuckled and felt his heart pick up the pace a little. They pulled into the harbor and the men around them eagerly jumped off the boat, tumbling out onto the dock in waves of brown. Louis hung back with Harry, waiting for the rush to thin before climbing onto the dock themselves.

“Do you think you’ll go straight home or will you visit anyone else?” Harry asked, curious if Louis, in all his brightness, had captured anyone’s special attention.

“Just home. My family will want to see me.” He shrugged, pausing as if he wanted to say more but thought better of it.

Once again Harry wondered if there was more under his steady composure. It made him curious. He had been so focused on only surviving all throughout the war so far. Now, perhaps, this man might help him live through it.

_June 8, 1940_

_Dear Louis,_

_It’s a strange thing, writing a letter to a man you’ve only met once. But here I am doing that very thing. You asked me to write to you, to help us preserve our humanity. So here is what I hope is the first of many letters._  

_It’s only been a week since we met, but it’s amazing what can happen in such a short span of time. I’m dropping this off in the London post as my regiment is being sent out again. I can’t tell you where we’re going… we haven’t been told yet. Only that we’re leaving. My mum was disappointed. I think she wanted more time with me. Gemma, my sister is resigned to it. She just told me to come back with my mind in one piece. She doesn’t care about my limbs. She’s a wry one, my sister._

_It was refreshing to be home. You were right; they welcomed us back like heroes rather than failures. Mum made me roast the first night I was home. You wanted to know about my visit home but I’m afraid there’s nothing much to tell. I slept a lot and read a lot. This round I’ve packed Murder on the Orient Express because I haven’t read it yet. Were you able to pack new books with you?_

_I hope Doncaster treated you well. Write back, if you get the chance. It’s nice to have a friend in the Army._

_All the best,_

_Harry Styles_

 

June 29, 1940

Dear Harry,

I will admit, I didn’t expect you to write me. After Dunkirk and saying goodbye to you at the train station, I wasn’t sure if you would. I hoped you would, and I’m glad you did. It was the highlight of my week to receive your letter. My regiment was sent out the week after yours from the sounds of it and we’ve had a hard run ever since.

I can’t tell you too many specifics but we’ve lost a few men already. I’ve only known some of them for a few months. I knew it wouldn’t be easy watching my fellow soldiers die but nothing could have prepared me for seeing it in person. It feels a bit like parts of my heart are being ripped out even as I don’t have time to fully focus on them dying. It seems like a cruel joke and a noble cause all at the same time, being out here, fighting to protect the Empire but killing men who are just like you and me. 

Being surrounded by death makes my two weeks in Doncaster with my family that much harder to remember. Getting your letter reminded me of the life after this war. It was a bright spot in this bleak existence. I guess you could say it succeeded in helping me preserve my humanity. It was refreshing to have word from someone who wasn’t in my regiment.

How are you, Harry, really? I know you can’t tell me where you’re going or where you are, but I’d still like to know how you are. I really only have two close friends in my regiment, Liam and Zayn. They know all my secrets but are just as wrapped up in what we’re experiencing as I am. I want to know everything you’re willing to share. I’ll share willingly.

Write back, Harry. It would make me glad.

Your friend,

Louis Tomlinson

P.S. I brought along Persuasion by Jane Austen. I haven’t read it in years and something lighter seemed appropriate. How are you enjoying Murder on the Orient Express?

 

_July 28, 1940_

_Dear Louis,_

_We’ve been moving around a lot more the past month so it took your letter longer to get to me. I was glad that you wrote back. When I initially wrote, I wasn't certain if you'd respond. I’m grateful you did. I’m sorry you've already experienced so much death. We've seen death too, but just on the side of the road, men we don’t know. It’s still removed from me._

_But if it helps, tell me about your home. Tell me about Doncaster and your mum and sisters. Tell me the first thing you want to do when you return home. I’d prefer to know human Louis rather than soldier Louis._

_I was raised in Holmes Chapel by mother. My father left when I was young so my mum has raised my sister Gemma and I by herself until she married my stepfather, Robin. I work at a bakery. It’s small but my coworkers are friendly and I’m able to bring home fresh bread for dinner every night so I can’t complain. It's my favorite smell in the world. Fresh bread and pastries. I make all the bread and Susan makes the pastries. Her Swiss rolls are beautiful, each and every one._

_When I’m not at the bakery, I’m at the library or helping my sister Gemma study. She’s smart as a whip and studying to become a journalist. Her letters are always full, asking me a million questions. She hardly answers any of mine, but I can’t begrudge her that too much. She’s older and therefore smarter._

_Mum, however, fills her letters to me with town gossip. Who has a sweetheart off at war, if there’s any new babies, how creative she’s becoming with rationing recipes. I think I like hearing about the new babies the best, new life in the midst of death and all that. Hearing about other people’s sweethearts just reminds me of my own loneliness. But I guess that reminds me that I’m human too._

_I hope all is well with you, Louis. Please write me back. Tell me if you’ve been able to read. I haven't read Persuasion in years. I’m enjoying Murder on the Orient Express though._

_Your friend,_

_Harry_

 

August 17, 1940

Dear Harry,

Once again, your letter was a piece of calm in a week fraught with chaos. Hopefully someday we’ll be able to see each other in person again and we can commiserate over our time in the war. It would be good to get my stories off my chest to someone who can understand. Even just knowing you’re out there, writing me letters and reading mine, gives me hope.

You asked about my family and it’s a relief to get to write about them. I have six younger siblings: Lottie, Fizzie, and two sets of twins: Phoebe and Daisy, and Doris and Ernest. My mum has raised us all by herself mostly. I’ve had two stepfathers, Mark (who adopted me and let me take his name) and Dan, who is my current step-father.

Going to work at the bookstore is really the only respite I get from the activity at home. My sisters are all smart (they’d probably get along well with Gemma) and Ernest enjoys getting into trouble as much as he can. I love them and their brightness. I think of them when things get particularly negative here. I think of the bookstore too. You said the smell of the bakery was your favorite; the smell of the bookstore is mine.

There are few places in Doncaster where I feel as at home as the bookstore. It’s small, just the owner and I, but I enjoy it. It feels like a paradise. I dream about the smell, the books, the way the light flickers through the front windows.

You mentioned you were lonely. Should I assume then that you don’t have anyone waiting for you at home? I don’t, but I don’t imagine it would be in the cards for me.

I haven’t had much time to read lately. If anything, just knowing I have a book with me is comfort enough. Lately I’ve been falling into bed exhausted to my bones. I had just enough energy to write to you, Harry. It’s energy well spent.

Sincerely yours,

Louis

 

_September 4, 1940_

_Dear Louis,_

_Our letters seem to have a habit of turning up exactly when we need them. We passed through a checkpoint today after a day from hell. Your letter was waiting for me and I felt relief course through me like I’ve never felt._

_We encountered a group of German soldiers today. We were shot at from all sides and had no hope of fighting back so we elected to escape instead. My friends Niall and Shawn and I were able to stay together and get out, with seven of our fellow soldiers. One of them, Michael, was badly injured, bleeding buckets. I’ve never seen so much blood._

_He died in my arms, Louis. Niall told me to try and keep him calm so I lifted his head and shoulders into my lap. Three minutes later he was gone. You mentioned in your first letter to me that you felt as if parts of your heart were being ripped out, seeing your comrades die. I understand now. He died in my arms and there was nothing I could do but watch. I’ve never felt so helpless. It felt as if my heart was fighting for release from my own chest._

_We were a weary bunch when we arrived at the checkpoint tonight. We’ve been trekking through rough terrain the past few weeks. Your letter was handed to me during dinner and I didn’t even finish eating. I just went straight to bed to read it and write a reply to you._

_I can’t begin to navigate the emotions I feel. I’m angry and shocked and I feel helpless. So helpless. What can I do to not feel helpless? What can I do to even make a dent in this war that cares little for the soldiers fighting two opposing causes? If the war doesn’t care about me, why should I care for it? Why shouldn’t I do everything in my power to go home now?_

_I am afraid of what I’m capable of doing to get home. You remind me of home in some ways, even though I never saw you in Holmes Chapel. You’re right, I don’t have anyone waiting for me but, with your letters, I feel like I at least have someone who cares what happens to me aside from my family. Your letters, your words somehow draw me out of my own head. Shawn is kind, but young. I worry about him.Niall is a loyal chap, but he’s all Irish pub songs and jokes about our next meal.  I suppose it’s his way of coping. Your letters are mine._

_Sincerely yours as well,_

_Harry_  

_P.S. I haven’t made much progress in Murder on the Orient Express. I want to hear your thoughts on it when I finish, whenever that is. Your family sounds lovely._

 

September 25, 1940

My dear Harry,

Your letter broke my heart, dear friend. I understand. I’ve felt helpless this entire war. I’m not sure there’s any other proper emotion to feel. We can only do what our superiors tell us, our small part in something so much bigger than ourselves. This isn’t easy. But Harry, you’ll get home. I know it. We both will. And we can meet together in person and talk about the horrors we’ve seen. We’ll be able to begin to heal over a pint at the pub.

Please tell me you’re feeling a bit better. This war is too long to feel down the entire time. Surely Irish pub songs are good at keeping up your morale? My mum is a wonderful singer. At home, she and I will sing lullabies for my sisters and Ernest. We’ve come up with some of our own songs too. It never ceases to make me feel better. Liam and I have taken to singing here and I think it’s become more comforting for our fellows.

Since neither of us have someone waiting for us at home, why don’t we wait for each other? We’ll get out of the war as soon as it’s over and I’ll buy us a round of drinks. You’ll see. Things will look up once you’ve slept on a normal bed again.

I’m sorry this letter is shorter but we’re moving again, a week or two of cross-country trekking ahead of us and we’re heading out late this evening. We’re each sleeping while we can. Wish me luck. I hope there’s a letter from you waiting at my next check point.

Yours,

Louis

P.S. We will have a complete discussion about Murder on the Orient Express as soon as you’re finished. I’m eager to hear what you think!

 

_October 15, 1940_

_Dearest Louis,_

_Once again your letter finds me on a tough day, although not as bad as my last letter. We’ve been able to stay in the same place for a few weeks. It’s refreshing, knowing (for the most part) where I’ll rest my head._

_Today was just a hard one, like so many others but I’ve been trying to not lose hope. I keep thinking about that round of drinks you promised and it urges me to continue. I do wish sometimes we could be in this together, side by side. I remember your laugh being infectious… it would do me good._

_You mentioned that you didn’t think having someone waiting for you was in the cards. May I ask why? Shawn asked me the other day why I wait for your letters so anxiously and I had to think about the answer. There aren’t many men in our company who are… well, like me. When I said I didn’t have anyone waiting for me at home, I omitted a certain detail, one that sets me starkly apart from my fellow soldiers here. You seem like a similar soul, someone who I can be honest with. Someone who can be honest with me._

_Your letters are getting me through this war. The thought of seeing you is getting me through it with my humanity intact. I am waiting for you too, Louis._

_It’s hard to find time to be alone in war. I wish I could be alone with you._

_My sister Gemma wrote and told me she’s training to become a nurse. It means she’ll be taking a break from her studies but she’s eager to help. I don’t think mum is very excited about it as it’ll mean both her children are out of the house, but I know she’s proud of us. Gemma sent along a copy of a short story she wrote. When we see each other next, remind me to share it with you. I think you'll enjoy it. It’s about two boys playing football in a schoolyard, then growing up and meeting for another game when they’re older._

_I am sorry for the sporadic nature of this letter and for its boldness. I hope I don’t scare you off. I hope you are well. I hope you are finding happiness each day, even if it’s just singing with Liam. I imagine you’d have a beautiful voice._

_Yours,_

_Harry_

_P.S. I imagine we could spend a good amount of time talking about books. Especially considering you work in a bookstore. I’ll have to visit Doncaster so you can show me around._

 

November 9, 1940

Dearest Harry,

Firstly, you didn’t scare me off. If what I’m inferring in your letter is correct than we are of the same mind. That certain detail, the reason you don’t have anyone waiting for you at home, is I hope, the same reason for me as well. I wish to be with a different kind of person. And a few moments alone with you would mean more than gold to me.

Secondly, your letters are getting me through this war too. I look forward to every one. In your next letter, I want to know what you plan to do once you return home. What you’re most looking forward to. After our round of drinks of course.

It’s been getting cold here, and I’m grateful for the extra socks my mum sent me with her last letter. She and Lottie knitted them together. Blue, they said, to match my eyes. Not that you could tell when they’re stuffed in my boots but, the gesture is sweet just the same. I do miss them. I wrote to Lottie about you and she said you sounded like the type of man I needed. I’m not entirely sure what she meant by that. She’s just found herself a beau, the son of our local dairy farmer. I wish I could be there to threaten him with his life if he hurts her. Can’t be a good big brother when I’m so far away.

She’s also training to become a nurse. She says she’ll be stationed somewhere in Paris most likely if she passes all her tests. I’m proud of her for pursuing something so noble. I feel lucky to call her my sister. I wonder if Gemma and Lottie will ever meet. Wouldn’t that be crazy, if they met while at war, just like we did? I would love to read Gemma’s story. It makes me all the more eager to see you.

Yesterday while walking to our next checkpoint, we saw a horse running through a field just to the west of us. We were in an area that’s entirely abandoned (as far as we know)  but there the horse was, running like it had no idea of the war going on around it. I think you would have loved seeing it, Harry.

Yours, now and after the war,

Louis

 

 _November 27, 1940_  

_Dearest Louis,_

_I do wish our letters could be exchanged more quickly. I find myself thinking of things to write you almost every day. Just yesterday Niall and I met these two little boys, both so bright and happy despite everything. They told the best jokes and we were clutching our stomachs from laughter. Do you like children? If you do, I’m sure you would have loved these two boys._

_That would be splendid if Lottie and Gemma met… regardless, we should make sure they do after the war. Maybe they can join us for dinner, after we’ve had our pints together? I hope to get back to the bakery once I return home. And I’d like to get my own house and start a garden. I don’t enjoy weeding, but seeing the flowers in the spring, the tomatoes in the summer, makes the work worth it. I’d like to find someone to share my life with, even if it's just a friend._

_I can’t put into words how grateful I am that I didn’t scare you off. I’ve spent the last month worried that perhaps I shouldn’t have been so forthcoming. Another reason I wish our letters could be exchanged faster._

_I hope you’re well. I wish I could see you in person. Perhaps we’ll be given leave at the same time if we’re ever back in England. This godforsaken war has to end soon, doesn’t it?_

_Please write me and tell me you’re well. Tell me what you’d like to do once we return home. Do you know what your outfit is doing for Christmas?_

_Yours now and after the war,_

_Harry_

_P.S. I’ve enclosed the copy of Gemma’s story. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did._

 

December 17, 1940

Darling Harry,

I second your wish for the post to be faster. I might start writing down all the stories I want to tell you when we meet for our pints. I imagine we’ll have a lot to talk about. And to answer your question, yes, I love children. I’m resigned to none of my own but Lottie has her sweetheart and I have no doubt my other siblings will have their own children as they like.

Perhaps we should exchange Lottie and Gemma’s addresses. That way they can write back and forth too. Two friendships formed in the midst of war.

I’d love to see your garden after the war. I’d even help you weed; I’ve never minded it. I just want to return to the bookshop. I want to read the new books that come out each year and maybe write one of my own. I want to spend time with my family. And I’d like to spend time with you.

I hope I’ll see you in person. A conversation, just us, would be ideal. I want to look in your eyes (they’re green, correct?) and tell you exactly how I am and hear you say how you are too. I’d like to hear your laugh.

I’m well, Harry, please don’t worry. I know my regiment is being stationed in the same place for several months now, but I’m uncertain what we’re doing for Christmas. I’ll let you know as soon as I do. If this doesn’t make it in time, I wish you a merry Christmas.

Yours, now and after the war,

Louis

 

Five months of letters hadn’t paled the image of Louis’s laughing face from Harry’s mind. Each night he fell asleep with images of Louis on the civilian boat, wondering where he was, sending up a silent prayer that he was safe that night, that Harry would see him soon. He hoped someone was listening.

He was woken up one morning in late December, told to gather his things and get dressed. It would have been a usual morning but this time they had a new assignment. He and Niall exchanged a glance. Shawn groaned.

“When we get home, I’m going to stay in bed for a week. I’m tired of all this bloody walking.” Niall said, his Irish accent coming in thick. ”At least we’ll be fit as hell, right?” He, Shawn, and Harry chuckled and quickly got dressed, Harry being careful to stow his letters from Louis in his bag, safely between pairs of underwear. 

Their group of twenty headed out, passing through the gate, the Colonel wishing them luck. Just as Harry walked through, a messenger came running up behind them, hollering at them to wait.

“Sorry sirs.” He waved an envelope in his hand. “A letter for Styles?”

Harry’s heart leaped in his chest and he strode forward to receive it. The group of twenty turned and began walking. By now, Harry had become used to these long walks. He had learned to keep his eyes straight ahead, not to let his gaze wander. More often than not his wandering eyes would be met with a corpse, an abandoned home, or some other sad or grotesque image. He slid the letter from Louis into his pocket and decided to daydream about Louis instead.

It was where his mind often went on these long walks. He and Louis, sitting together in a pub, heads close together over two pints, talking nonstop. Louis showing him around his bookstore, sharing their favorite books. Showing Louis around the bakery, making him a special loaf of bread.

Harry had caught himself falling for Louis in September, after receiving Louis’s letter in response to his own depicting Michael’s death. At first he thought it was just the comfort of having someone understand what he had gone through, someone he could talk to unashamedly, without fear of exposing the conflicting and confusing emotions that sometimes overcame him. It was then he wondered that maybe Louis was as different as Harry. The rest of his letters only seemed to prove his point and he felt that maybe, just maybe, there could be more to his and Louis’s relationship than just friendship.

He fingered the letter in his pocket and gently pulled it out. The other soldiers would read their own letters on these walks through mostly abandoned terrain. He would just quickly skim Louis’s and save a full reread for later.

He felt his heart calm as he started to read, Louis’s words wafting over him like a balm, but it picked up the pace once he got to the end. _Yours, now and after the war, Louis._ The last two letters said. _His. Harry’s._ It was a heady thought, one that kept Harry going as they marched on.

It was late evening when they arrived at the camp, another regiment having arrived before them. He, Shawn, and Niall unpacked their sleeping pads, Niall singing ridiculous lyrics to lighten the mood. He had thought up some new ones during the day. Harry decided to take a final walk to brush his teeth and wash his face, a slower one, where he could stretch his muscles and allow his body to relax. He’d been feeling tension in his spine for weeks and the long walks weren’t helping. But a short one, where he could swing his arms and stretch a little might help. He exited the tent into the brisk night air.

“Louis, I just want you to be careful.” Harry’s ears perked up, hearing the whisper as he walked past the tent of the other regiment. Louis? _His_ Louis? It was almost too good to be true. He paused and knelt down, trying to be inconspicuous, straining to hear the voice he’d wanted to hear again since June.  

“I _am_ being careful, Liam!” Harry recognized Louis’s voice and nearly gasped out loud. He'd replayed it in his head enough times to know it by heart. There was a rustling of paper and the sound of someone sitting down, a bed creaking under new weight. “I don't even know if he cares for me like that at all. There’s nothing incriminating in our letters. At least not until these last two. And even then you would have to read into them.”

“But it’s strange anyways that you’re even writing to another man in the army…” Liam replied. Harry’s eyebrows flew to his hairline. Were they talking about him? Liam sounded urgent and caring, like he was sitting next to Louis with a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You know how people get a bit crazy about that sort of thing. I don’t want to see you killed for loving Harry.”

Harry felt a thrill chase through his body, zinging its way up his spin, setting his heart off at a record speed. They were talking about him. Louis was talking about him… Louis loved him? Harry felt his eyes water.

“Liam, I’ve only met him in person once,” Louis said, his voice sounding thick and wet. “I can’t know if I love him.”

“You haven’t stopped talking about him since you met him.” Liam replied. “I see the look on your face when you get another letter from him. It’s like you’re seeing the sun for the first time in a year. You care for him, as more than a friend. I won’t judge you for it, Louis, I’d be the last person to judge you. It would just be nice to see you two together _after_ the war.”

Harry bit his lip to suppress a grin, feeling like his face would burst. Niall had said the same thing about him. Niall had caught onto Harry’s feelings for Louis before Harry had.

“It would be nice. But I don't know how he feels for me, Liam.” Louis said, his voice high, breaking at the end of his sentence. “He could be the type of man to throw me in jail for even mentioning it.”

“Does he really seem like it?” Liam asked gently. Harry thanked every deity in existence for Liam’s calm demeanor.

“No.” Louis answered quietly and Harry felt a sudden urge to rush into the tent, to tell Louis that he wasn’t that type of man at all, that he actually was the opposite. He checked himself and stayed where he was. “He was the one who brought it up, if I’m reading between the lines correctly. Either way we haven’t admitted anything to each other straight out.”

“Do you want to?” Liam’s voice asked.

Louis let out a sigh. “Yes. More than anything I just want to know if he wants me like I want him.” His voice was small but full of longing. Hearing it overwhelmed Harry and filled him with a rumbling desire to just hold Louis close to him.

Louis cared for him. Louis, the man he'd been writing to, who had been his bright spot in all the gloom, the man who he'd met once and couldn't get out of his head even if he tried. The man with the blue eyes he saw every time he closed his own eyes. Harry felt like his heart would burst.

He had to see Louis. Preferably alone. He stayed still another moment.

“When did you send your last letter?” Liam was asking.

“A few weeks ago. He’s probably received it by now. I just wish I could see him in person.” Louis said.

“You will,” Liam said. “I need to send a letter home anyways, so how about I go and check to see if the new regiment brought in any mail for you.”

“Thanks, Liam.” Louis said and Harry heard Liam walk out. Louis sighed and there was more shuffling of paper. Harry took a deep breath and walked around to the entrance of the tent. He peeked in, seeing Louis on a cot, alone in the space. He was dressed in just a white t-shirt and uniform pants, his soft brown hair falling across his forehead. He was gingerly holding a stack of paper, shuffling them in his hands and tracing his finger across the pages. Harry recognized his stationary. He gulped and walked in, pushing the tent flap open.

“I got your letter this morning.” Harry said softly so he wouldn’t startle Louis, a grin filling his face as he watched the other man’s head snap up, realization crowding his features. “I didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to respond in person.”

Louis stood quickly, Harry’s letters clutched in his hands. “Harry?” His voice broke. He looked incredulous, rubbing his eyes, and blinking furiously.

Harry nodded. “My regiment just got in. I was taking a walk and heard your voice.”

Louis swallowed visibly and smiled hesitantly, worry mingled with hope in his eyes. “How much did you hear exactly?”

Harry took a few steps closer, until he was standing right in front of Louis. He hadn’t realized when they were on the boat from Dunkirk how much smaller Louis was than him. He looked down at the other man, taking in the blue eyes he’d dreamt of for months. He shrugged. “Not much. I heard that you hadn’t gotten another letter from me yet.”

Harry felt an urge to somehow protect Louis’s privacy. Let Louis tell Harry himself that he loved him. As much as Harry wanted to pull Louis into his arms and kiss him senseless, his brain was telling him to go slow. There was no need to get themselves killed, after all, and someone could walk in the tent at any moment.

“Oh. Good.” Louis said, his shoulders relaxing. His smile turned bright, tiny crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. He reached out, touching Harry’s wrists. “I can’t believe it’s you.” His voice was soft, and Harry could understand why. It felt like they had entered in a bubble of their own making, the war of the past few years temporarily fading away. “Do you want to sit down?”

Louis sat at the head of his cot, placing Harry’s letters gently on the table next to it, and patted the space in front of him. Harry sat down, folding his legs underneath him. He grinned at Louis, not wanting to take his eyes off him. Louis’s face was better in person. He reached his hands out, wanting to touch but pulled them back after a second. Louis may care for him, but still, Harry didn’t want to push anything. They’d only exchanged a few letters. _We need time_ , he told himself. _Right?_ His stomach was a jumble of nerves.

“I thought I’d heard wrong but your voice sounded so similar and then you mentioned letters and you said Liam’s name and I just had to see if it was really you. It’s even better that you’re alone, ‘cause there’s so much I want to say.” Harry rambled, the words pouring out of him. He shrugged, wondering if he was making any sense.

“It’s me. I’d remember you anywhere. I’ve been thinking about meeting you again since we said goodbye at Dunkirk.” Louis glanced at the tent’s entrance before hesitantly reaching over to grasp Harry’s hand. Harry slid his fingers through Louis’s, warmth spreading through his whole body, and Louis let out a shuddery breath, his eyes locked on their hands. He swallowed and looked up at Harry. Harry grinned.

“You have dimples!” Louis said with a quiet laugh, his eyes wide in glee and surprise.

“I do,” Harry said, grinning wider, rubbing his thumb along the back of Louis’s hand. He never wanted to let go. “And you’re shorter than I remember.”

Louis flipped Harry off with a fond smile. “How about we say you’re taller than I remember. That’s a bit kinder, isn’t it?” The two men chuckled but broke off when the tent flap was pushed open and a tall brunette walked in. Harry quickly released Louis’s hand, irrationally feeling the urge to stand in front of him, to protect him from whoever had entered the tent.

“Liam.” Louis said, relief filling his voice. Harry glanced at Louis. His cheeks were pink. Liam walked over towards them, a questioning look on his face. “Liam, this is Harry. From… from Dunkirk.”

Liam’s eyebrows rose in a shocked grin. “Are you really?” He held out his hand and Harry shook it. “What a small world. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You too,” Harry said. “Louis’s mentioned you in his letters.”

“Hopefully all good things.” Liam said cheerfully as he rustled around in his bag. “I’m going to brush my teeth before bed and see if Zayn found the whiskey rations.” He winked at Louis and Harry. “In case you missed it, Louis, you didn’t have any letters waiting for you.” He smirked.

Louis shook his head with a grin. “My next letter arrived in person.”

Liam just chuckled. “Have fun, boys. I’ll leave you to your reunion.” And he walked out of the tent, Harry staring after him, a mixture of appreciation and surprise on his face.

Louis let his head fall into his hands. “I’m so glad it was him. He won’t tell anyone he… saw us holding hands.” His cheeks were still tinted pink. “I didn’t mind but…”

Harry smiled encouragingly. “I didn’t either.” He said, reaching back for Louis’s hand again and pulling it away from Louis’s face to hold in his own. Louis’s hands were delicate and smaller than his own and Harry had to admit to himself that he loved the feel of them. Touching Louis like this, carefully, tenderly, made him feel more like himself. More human. “I like… It’s just… It’s nice to know you’re actually real. There were a few times I thought I’d made you up.”

“No, I’m definitely real,” Louis said, poking himself in the stomach with his other hand. Harry giggled. “It’s nice to know you’re real too though. I kept thinking each letter I wrote would be the last one.”

Harry shook his head. “Not when I knew I had to keep writing to you to keep receiving letters.”

Louis chuckled, and Harry felt the weight of the past months, the world resting on his shoulders, slowly recede. He sighed contentedly.

“You’re less stoic than when I last saw you,” Louis said. “Here I was thinking I’d have a moody man on my hands.”

Harry chuckled. “Not so moody. I told you about Niall and his singing?” Louis nodded. “He’s started writing his own songs, creating lyrics as he goes along or leading sing-a-longs with the others. Our friend Shawn joins in occasionally and they’ll make up their own songs as we go. It puts me in a good mood every night.”

“Are you missing it right now?” Louis asked.

Harry shook his head. “It doesn’t matter anyways, I’d rather be here.” There was a scuffle by the entrance to the tent and they quickly untangled their fingers, trying to look inconspicuous. Harry wished he could keep holding Louis’s hand.

It was Liam again, followed by a darker man who Harry guessed might be Zayn. They smiled at Harry and Louis and sat on the cot next to them. “The others were about a hundred paces behind us, Louis. Just so you know.” He gestured to the darker man. “Harry, this is Zayn, by the way.”

Harry and Zayn shook hands. “Pleasure to meet you,” Zayn said. He was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. He reminded Harry of Louis a bit. By appearances, he wasn’t intimidating, but Harry could see a power behind his eyes.

“You too.” He glanced back to Louis. “I should probably get going. I was headed to bed before I found you.” Harry said, wishing even as he spoke the words aloud that he could stay instead.

“See you tomorrow, then?” Louis asked brightly.

“See you tomorrow.” Harry said with a smile. He left reluctantly, wishing he could stay, wishing he and Louis could talk until the wee hours of the morning and fall asleep side by side. He wanted to know what it felt like to have Louis pressed up against him, how Louis would react if Harry rested his hands on his stomach in the middle of the night. How Louis would look in the morning, just as he woke up. He and Louis hugged, not allowing themselves to linger, but Harry let his fingers remain on Louis’s arms until the last possible second.

He fell asleep with the lingering feeling of Louis’s hand in his and his bright smile cheering up his dreams.

 

The next morning, the two regiments were called together after breakfast. It was a cold morning, frost lingered on the grass and each man’s breath could be seen in the air. Harry spotted Louis across the lawn, standing next to Liam and Zayn, looking like he was holding back a smirk. Harry wondered what they were talking about and felt himself smile when Louis caught his eye.

“We’ve had a bit of intelligence that Nazis might be lurking nearby. A small party, just to spy on us and get their own intel.” General Bates said. “We’d like to send out three groups of five, mixed between the regiments."

General Bates started calling out names, Harry listening intently for his own. He heard it, finally, and was caught by surprise with the other four names. “Styles. Horan. Payne. Tomlinson. Malik. Head northeast.”

Shawn bid them goodbye and Niall slugged Harry in the shoulder as they walked over to Louis, Liam, and Zayn. “Isn’t Tomlinson your boy?” Niall whispered.

Harry forgot sometimes how much he had shared with Niall. But he couldn’t keep secrets from Niall, and Harry had all but burst when he’d finally found Niall after Dunkirk, telling him everything about the man he’d met on the civilian ship. Perhaps that’s when had known about Harry’s affection for Louis.

Harry turned red. “ _Niall_ .” He said, attempting to hide the smile that filled his face thinking about Louis as _his_ boy. He’d fallen asleep imagining it… now Niall was saying it like fact.

“Good to see you again, Harry!” Liam said cheerfully as they approached.

“You too, Liam,” Harry said. “This is my friend Niall. We joined the army together.”

“Cheers, mates!” Niall said, shaking hands all around. “I’m assuming you’re Louis then?” He cocked an eyebrow knowingly.

Louis smirked. “That I am, mate. I’ve heard plenty about you from Harry’s letters. He says you’re quite the singer.”

Niall laughed. “Well, I try. I’m better with my guitar.”

“We should sing together sometime then!” Liam said. “Louis and I do almost every night. Sometimes we can get Zayn to pitch in.”

“Only if I’m in a particularly good mood,” Zayn said with a small smile. “Or if my feet don’t hurt.”

“My feet have been hurting since day one, Zayn,” Louis said, and the five of them headed northeast, Liam leading the way through the trees and grass. “Have you yet experienced a day in this war where your feet don’t hurt?”

Harry fell into step behind Liam, and he felt more than saw Louis fall in line behind him. It was still cold, and the frost on the ground allowed for little movement when a breeze blew by. Harry wondered briefly if they’d be easier to see through the frost. “I haven’t.” He said. “Niall can attest to that.”

“Yeah, that’s why I started singing,” Niall said. “To get you to stop complaining about your feet!”

The five chuckled, following Liam as he carefully walked through the trees.

“So where have you been stationed since I saw you at Dunkirk, Louis?” Harry asked.

“Let’s see…” Louis said, “Liam, Zayn, you might need to help me here. After Dunkirk, we ended up at Normandy for a while, but we weren’t there for very long at all.”

“We were stationed outside of Paris for a month,” Zayn added. “But it was so quiet, you’d think we weren’t at war.”

“We did get bombed by the Nazi planes at one point,” Liam said. “That was an adventure.”

“You never told me that, Lou!” Harry said, letting the nickname slip off his tongue.

Louis grimaced. “That was the day I got your letter about Michael.” He said it softly, so only Harry could hear. “It didn’t seem like it needed to be said,” Louis spoke louder. “We were all fine, anyways.”

Louis’s fingers grazed the back of Harry’s arm and he caught them in his own fingers for an instant. He nodded quickly. He would occasionally wake up in a cold sweat, Michael’s face haunting his dreams like a beacon. He understood why Louis hadn’t told him.

 “We think they were just practicing,” Zayn said. “They didn’t know we were there because the shooting was so sporadic.”

“As far as we could tell, anyways,” Liam said. “What about you two?”

“We moved around a lot the first two months after Dunkirk,” Harry said. “I think we slept in a different place every week.”

“We were in the Northwest of France for two months,” Niall said. “The outskirts of a small village called St. Manvieu-Norrey. It was occupied and we were trying to get supplies to the civilians if we could.”

“That doesn’t seem very war-like either,” Zayn said. “At least, not fighting wise.”

“To be honest, the Nazis weren’t frightening.” Niall said. “We’ve heard of stories of other villages where they’re killing children and things but the ones in the village we were by weren’t bad. If anything they just walked around the streets with their guns, never actually doing anything.” Niall ran a hand through his hair as he spoke, making it stick up in the middle. “It felt like we were doing good at least.”

“We met some children there who helped us smuggle goods into the village,” Harry said. He heard Louis and Liam both take in a sharp breath. “They were very brave.”

A somber silence settled upon them and they walked on, Liam checking the map and compass, the other four keeping an eye out for any signs of movement. Harry wasn’t sure how long they walked for, but he was starting to hope Niall would sing. Just to distract him from his sore feet.

“Where did Michael die?” He heard Louis ask quietly, over Harry’s left shoulder. Zayn and Niall were joking animatedly behind them and Liam was examining his map as he walked, his brow furrowed.

Harry took in a deep breath and spoke over his shoulder. “We were on our way north actually. We got ambushed three days before we arrived at St. Manvieu-Norrey.”

Louis hummed acknowledgment. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you we were bombed,” Louis said, his voice still quiet enough that only Harry could hear. “I wanted to, but… I didn’t want to make you sadder.”

“It’s alright,” Harry said, slowing for a moment so he and Louis could walk side by side. “I understand why you didn’t… there are enough sad things every day. And I did... unload on you. I just got your letter and it came at the perfect time and it felt like you would rather know what really happened.”

“I would,” Louis said. “I always prefer the truth.”

“Me as well,” Harry said, a warm feeling spreading through him. He decided to change the topic to something more cheerful. “How is Lottie doing with her nurse training? I got a letter from Gemma two days ago saying she passed her tests and will find out where she’s getting placed soon!”

“Good for her!” Louis said proudly. “Lottie also just passed her tests. She said she’d let me know as soon as she knew where she was going. As much as she can anyways.”

Harry nodded. “It’s nice to know they’re doing something. Gemma was never the sort to just sit on her arse and knit socks for the cause.”

Louis let out a bark of a laugh. “Neither has Lottie or my mother for that matter. My grandmother worked as a nurse in the Great War… I think it runs in the family.”

“It must,” Harry said. “Have you been able to read much?”

Louis shook his head. “No, I…” But he stopped suddenly and pulled Harry down. Liam was gesturing frantically at them all to duck. Harry felt his pulse speed up.

“What did you see, Li?” Zayn whispered from behind Harry.

“I think I saw one of their hats…” Liam said. “Hang on, I’m going to check."

“Be careful, mate!” Niall whispered. Zayn looked pale.

“Come on,” Louis said. “Let’s get behind that fallen tree.” He led the three off the path, Harry close behind, crawling on his arms and legs as carefully as he could. They didn’t need any help being seen. Their uniforms stood out from the frost enough as it was.

“Ok, Zayn, Harry, ready your guns,” Louis said after they were each kneeling behind the trunk. “Niall, keep an eye on Liam. Don’t let him out of your sight.”

Harry didn’t have a minute to admire Louis’s natural talent for leadership or the way he kept a clear head because as soon as Louis stopped speaking, the sound of gunfire filled the air in a cacophony of ear-splitting noise. Up ahead, Harry could see Liam hit the ground. He couldn’t question if it was intentional or because he’d been hit but Harry aimed his gun in the direction the bullets were coming from and fired.

The shooting stopped after only a few minutes, echoes filling the air with remnants of fire. Harry could hear Zayn breathing heavily next to him, could feel his own hands shaking. He felt Louis rustle with something on his other side. Louis tossed one of his gloves away from them and ducked quickly.

Nothing happened.

Up ahead of them, Harry could see a rustle in the grass and watched with bated breath until Liam’s head popped up above the grass. He was crawling closer to where the gunfire had come from, his knife in his hand. Harry felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Let’s go after Liam,” Louis said. “Zayn, Niall, watch our backs.”

Zayn and Niall nodded, Zayn’s eyes wide and fixed on Liam, Niall looking breathless. Harry followed Louis as they carefully crawled out from behind the tree trunk.

“Keep an eye out,” Harry said. “There might be more.” Louis nodded and they continued to crawl. Harry kept his eyes scanning around them, but after each scan he found they returned to Louis.

Louis looked calm, despite being in the situation they were in. He looked focused, determined. Harry felt the intense desire to protect him, while at the same time knowing without a doubt that Louis could protect him right back 

Up ahead they saw Liam spring up over a ridge, look around him, then let out a strangled shout.

Another shot rang out, flying so close to Harry’s head he could feel it. The gunfire started up again. He and Louis ducked, covering their heads with their hands. Harry reached out one of his hands and placed it on Louis’s head, feeling bullets zinging so close to them he was surprised they weren’t already dead. Louis tangled his fingers with Harry’s and for a moment he felt calm, despite the bullets flying around them.

The gunfire stopped and once again silence settled around them. Harry waited with bated breath, daring a peek up to the ridge, praying for a sign of Liam. He let out a sigh when he saw Liam stand up.

“All clear!” Liam shouted to them. Harry and Louis sat up on their knees, slowly untangling their hands. Louis let out a shaky laugh, eyeing Harry curiously, as Niall and Zayn came up behind them. Zayn brushed past them straight towards Liam, and Niall, Louis and Harry followed.

Around Liam were the bodies of three Germans. He was picking through their guns, their uniforms, pulling out ammo and water bottles and a spare pair of socks. Zayn was kneeling next to him.

“You sure you’re alright?” Zayn asked. Liam just smiled at him fondly. Zayn nodded. “Ok, I know.” Harry wasn’t quite sure what that meant but he figured he could guess.

“Well, that was close, wasn’t it?” Niall asked, the five of them crowded around the three bodies. He knelt down next to Liam and Zayn. “Did you find any intel on them, Liam?”

Liam shook his head. “Nothing. The extra ammo is good at least and we know they knew we’re here. We should report back.”

The other four nodded, and Harry let his fingers brush Louis’s while the other three were distracted. For just a moment, Louis tangled his fingers in Harry’s, the gesture comforting and secure, before letting go. “Thank you.” He whispered. Harry felt something shift in his stomach. The way Louis kept mingling their fingers was doing funny things to his appetite.

They walked back, wary and tired, and keenly aware of their surroundings. By the time they got back, the other groups had also arrived and were reporting to General Bates. Liam did most of the talking, explaining what they’d seen, the three German soldiers, and where they were. After being dismissed, the five of them made their way to Harry and Niall’s regiment’s tent, Harry and Louis plopping onto Harry’s cot and Liam, Zayn, and Niall squishing on Niall’s.

“Nothing like seeing your life flash before your eyes to remind you that you have heartbeat, eh?” Niall said. Harry recognized his attempt at humor, and was grateful for it. The five of them chuckled and Niall grinned.

“Why don’t you sing us something, Niall?” Harry asked. He tucked his legs underneath him, his knee grazing Louis’s and propped his elbows on his thighs, letting his face rest in his hands. Louis shifted around, shedding his top most layer, adjusting himself so his thigh was squished under Harry’s knee.

Niall nodded and began to sang. Harry didn’t sing along; he wasn’t sure if this was a song Niall had written himself or just one Harry didn’t know the lyrics to. But he enjoyed it regardless. It reminded him of the countryside, the rolling hills and the way the bakery smelled like coming home. He closed his eyes and sighed, listening contentedly and feeling the day’s tension sliding away like raindrops on a window.

Then, Louis joined in. Niall’s deep broug combined with Louis’s higher tone and the two harmonized through the finish of the sing. There was a collective sigh when they finished.

“You two should do that more often.” Liam said, his eyes closed. The other soldiers in the tent, the other eighteen of Harry and Niall’s company and a few from Louis’s also seemed caught up in the calm.

“Sing again.” Shawn said from behind Harry. “Something else.”

Niall grinned. “Only if you three join us as well.” He started humming a melody and the familiar lyrics of Don’t Fence Me In poured from his mouth. Louis chuckled and began singing along, Harry, Zayn, and Liam joining in. One by one, each man in the tent smiled, the day’s events receding to the background of their mind as the five sang as if they’d been singing together their whole lives.

They finished in perfect harmony and the men applauded. “Another!” One of them cried.

Harry chuckled. “Tuxedo Junction?” He asked.

None of them needed to respond. Instead Zayn jumped right into it, Liam’s tenor hitting high notes, Niall and Louis scatting back and forth as if they had an actual big band behind them, Harry keeping the melody, cueing several laughs and attempted vocal trumpet solos from the men in the crowd.

Harry couldn't take his eyes off Louis, watching him scat and play and laugh, couldn’t stop listening to Niall’s voice, the way it pushed them forward. He couldn’t stop marveling at Zayn and Liam’s abilities to reach high notes in perfect harmony and, when Louis squeezed his knee, Harry couldn’t stop thinking that he was insanely lucky. He smiled like he hadn’t in months.

They finished the song, dissolving into robust laughter. It rang out into the night, and for one slice of time the brutality of war disappeared in the midst of laughter and joy.

 

The next morning, Harry woke with a start. He hadn’t been woken up by the hustle and bustle of the generals calling everyone to attention. He sat up quickly, looking around. Niall was on the cot next to him, snoring and still thoroughly asleep. All around him the other men in his regiment were asleep or sitting in their cots reading or writing. Next to him, Shawn was awake and writing what looked like a letter. 

“Shawn,” Harry whispered, “Why is everyone still sleeping?”

Shawn looked at Harry curiously. “It’s Christmas, Harry. They’re letting us sleep in.” He flicked his brown hair off his forehead. “A man from the other regiment, Louis I think, stopped by about half an hour ago. He asked me to tell you when you woke up.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. “Thanks. Did he say anything else?”

Shawn shrugged. “He said something about meeting you for breakfast?” Niall let out a huge grunt as he rolled over and Shawn smirked past Harry. “Niall, you’re snoring.” He stage whispered.

Niall grumbled and threw a sock over Harry at Shawn. Harry chuckled and got out of bed, putting his shoes on while Niall and Shawn had a sock throwing frenzy behind him. He threw on his jacket, his hat, and his gloves, and exited the tent. He walked over the frozen ground to the kitchen tent and ducked inside.

There was a wood stove burning bright and making the whole tent warm. There were just three people inside the tent, huddled around the stove: Louis, Zayn, and Liam, each holding a cup of tea and balancing plates on their knees. Liam saw Harry first.

“Harry!” Liam said, and Harry couldn’t withhold his grin as Louis’s head whipped around to see him. “Happy Christmas, mate. Want a cuppa?”

“Yes please.” Harry said, walking over and sitting next to Louis. “Happy Christmas.” He felt Louis sidle closer to him, pressing their thighs together. Their fingers grazed each other as Louis handed him a cup of tea and Harry let his eyes linger on Louis’s for just a moment.

“I’m surprised you’re all up.” Harry said. “Most of the men in my regiment are still asleep.”

Zayn chuckled. “So are the ones in ours but we wanted breakfast.” He shared a smile with Liam. “And Lou here wouldn’t let us leave without him.” Zayn looked happily perturbed, and cocked his eyebrow at Louis.

Louis just shrugged. “You know how much I love breakfast, Zayn.”

Zayn just shook his head fondly and Liam gave him a squeeze around the waist, both of them giggling together, Liam’s forehead resting against Zayn’s cheek.

Harry did a double take. _Liam had his arm around Zayn’s waist._

He felt very flush all of a sudden, like he’d just seen the sun after being in a dark room for a year. Liam and Zayn exchanged a look that was decidedly _not only friendly,_ and Harry felt his chest constrict.

He’d heard of men being together. He knew he himself didn’t want to be with a woman. He’d held Louis’s hand two nights before. But he’d never seen two men, actually acting… in love. It was beautiful and terrible, and Harry was quite sure his heart had just stopped as his mind exploded with noise. Every slur or insult he’d ever heard leveled at him or other men suspected of homosexuality flew through his mind, and there in front of him sat Liam and Zayn like a beacon, an arm around a waist, a fond look, a wink, licked lips, cutting through the chaos of years of conditioning and dismantling it in one fell swoop.

A gentle hand came to rest on his forearm. “You alright, Haz?”

Louis’s voice drew Harry out of his mind, and he looked over at those blue eyes he’d dreamt about for months. Blue eyes that somehow didn’t seem to miss much at all. Louis was gazing at him knowingly, a small smile on his face.

“I’m…” Harry started, overwhelmed by the nickname, and Louis’s eyes, and seeing Liam hold Zayn with such ease. “I’m alright.” He nodded and took a sip of his tea. Liam and Louis exchanged a look.

Liam whispered something in Zayn’s ear and the two stood, putting their plates on the table and bidding goodbye to Louis and Harry. Harry nodded weakly, taking in a deep breath.

“They’ve been together since before the war.” Louis said, pulling his hand away from Harry’s arm, but pressing the side of his body ever closer. “They were able to get put in the same regiment and everything. I don’t know how they do it.”

“Do the other men know?” Harry asked, gripping his cup. Liam and Zayn didn’t deserve to die. It was amazing that they hadn’t been found out.

Louis shook his head. “No, they’ve told everyone they’re best friends and I think the rest of the group has left it at that. They’re very careful.”

“How did you find out?”

“I caught them once.” Louis said, a small smile on his face. “They weren’t doing much of anything, just holding hands and looking at each other the way they were just now. But I’d never seen two men do that and it…” He gestured his hands vaguely. “It made me wonder.”

Harry nodded. “They’re in love. You could see it in their eyes.”

“I told them that I was the same and they’ve stuck by me ever since.” Louis said, speaking slowly, but steadily. “I think they feel a need to protect me, plus having me around protects them from much suspicion.”

Harry sighed, resting his head in his hands. He heard Louis swallow hard next to him and it occurred to him that he hadn’t confirmed Louis’s suspicions of him.

“I’m sorry.” Louis said, his voice cracking. “I’d assumed from your letters that you were the same. If you’re not…” He trailed off and Harry acted on impulse, wrapping an arm around Louis’s waist, much like Liam’s had been wrapped around Zayn just moments before.

“I am.” Harry said, catching Louis’s uncertain eyes with his own. “I tried to be as clearly vague as possible in my letters, but I’m the same. I’m… I…” He grappled with just how to say it, and kept his voice low, so low that only Louis could hear him above the noise of the camp around them, the fire crackling away in the stove. “I’ve never been interested in women. I’ve always thought what I want is impossible.”

Louis blinked, and gazed at Harry with what he could only call affection. “Liam and Zayn seem to think it isn’t.” He relaxed into Harry’s arm, resting his own hand on Harry’s knee. Their faces were close, green eyes captured by blue. “They lived together before the war.”

Harry let out a sigh that almost sounded like a laugh too. “They lived…” He took in a breath and shook his head. “It’s too good to be true.”

“Do any others know of your inclinations?” Louis asked, his gaze trailing over Harry’s face, and Harry felt each feature of his face burn as Louis’s eyes touched upon them.

He nodded. “My mother and Gemma. And Niall.” Harry chuckled to himself, as a thought occurred to him. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Niall is the same too. He flirts with one of the other guys in our regiment all the time.”

Louis chuckled. “There are more of us than we know, I think.”

There was a rustle outside the tent and Harry and Louis withdrew their hands from each other. A soldier entered the tent, nodded good morning, grabbed a cup of tea and left quickly. Harry’s heart pounded like he’d just been bombed.

“They’re the bravest men I know, Zayn and Liam.” Louis said, looking a bit spooked, his eyes trained on the entrance to the tent. “We should probably go see what everyone else is up to.” He sounded reluctant and Harry was grateful to hear his own reluctance reflected in Louis’s voice.

They stood and Harry paused, letting his fingers rest around Louis’s wrist just for a moment. “Now that I know you in person, now that you’re here and I can actually see you and be around you, I… I have a hard time wanting to leave you,” he confessed, looking at Louis with honesty in his eyes.

Louis smiled then, radiant and bright, his eyes crinkling and his mouth forming a grin that made Harry want to pull him close and gaze at Louis’s smile for a year.

Louis adjusted his hand in Harry’s grip and squeezed Harry’s fingers. “I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

They shared one last smile, a smile just for the two of them, before schooling their face and exiting the tent, spying Niall, Shawn, Liam, and Zayn standing by one of the fires. Niall beckoned them over and the six of them spent the rest of the day singing carols, playing in the snow, and writing letters home.

It was blessed relief, from the intensity and fear of the previous days. Every time Harry looked over at Louis, Louis smiled, like he was holding a secret safe from the world, one he treasured. Harry was thrilled, knowing that the secret was him.

 

The day after Christmas was another patrol day. General Bates put them in groups of six this time, and sent them out again, walking over the landscape and attempting to spot any stray Axis soldiers. Louis, Harry, Liam, Zayn, and Niall were accompanied by Shawn now, and the six set out across the frost, the snow just lingering in the cold. 

“You know,” Liam started as he and Zayn led the six of them out of the camp, heading southwest. “If this is how we spend the rest of the war, I wouldn’t complain.”

Niall chuckled. “You say that now, but if this war lasts for three more years, you’ll probably be wishing for some action by then, mate!” His Irish brogue was crystal clear in the cold, despite having one of his own scarves and one of Shawn’s wrapped around his neck and face.

Zayn groaned. “If this war lasts that long, I think all I’ll want is my own bed.”

“Will you go home?” Harry asked him. “After the war, I mean. You two had a house, right?” He tried to be vague, still uncertain about Shawn’s preferences. Harry was almost certain about Niall, but still, one could never be too safe. Besides, Shawn was young, nineteen to his and Niall’s twenty-three years and had a bit more fire in his belly than the rest of them.

Harry remembered himself at nineteen. Gemma called him a spark, because he was always wanting to right the wrongs of the world right away. He’d learned patience as he grew up.

Zayn and Liam exchanged a look. “We’re not sure.” Zayn responded for them.  

“We thought we’d do a bit of traveling. See places that the war hasn’t reached.” Liam chimed in.

“Is there a place the war hasn’t reached?” Harry muttered, mostly to himself. But Louis, walking next to him, heard, and tangled his fingers in Harry’s for a moment.

They continued walking, Shawn and Niall bantering and joking in the middle, Liam and Zayn up ahead talking quietly together, and Harry and Louis trailing behind. The day was quiet and they sat down for lunch by a rippling stream after a few more hours of walking and patrolling. Resting gently aside a hillside, the creek rolled and tumbled its way through grass that, despite the cold and snow and frost, looked frozen in summertime. Each blade was delicately dressed in frost, making the whole hill look like a glittering snow globe. Harry thought he could almost imagine that he was out for a winter walk with friends, not in the middle of a war. There were no Germans in sight.

But they _were_ in the middle of a war so Liam and Zayn sat facing up the hill to keep an eye behind them and Louis, Harry, Niall, and Shawn sat looking down. They pulled out their lunch of bread, milk, and jerky. Somehow, Niall had got a bit of cheese, and they passed the block around reverently.

“I’ll be grateful to have my mother’s roast when I get home.” Niall said. “I miss her potatoes.”

The other men hummed in response. “We all think our mum’s roast is the best,” Louis said, and it made Harry chuckle. “What?” Louis asked him, grinning ruefully.

“You said that when we first met at Dunkirk.” He said. “I said I wanted my mum’s roast while I was home.”

Liam chuckled. “I suppose that was one good thing to come from Dunkirk. We all got to go home.”

“What did you do while you were home?” Shawn asked. He sat next to Niall, leaning back on his forearms, one of his thighs pressed close to Niall’s knee. It made Louis’s comment from the previous day echo in Harry’s mind: _There are more of us than we know._ “I think I slept for several days. I couldn’t be bothered to leave my bed.”

Liam gestured between Zayn and him. “We went and saw our families and looked in on our house. It was mostly rubble from the Blitz but we found a few possessions we could give to our families for safekeeping.”

“You’re together, aren't you?” Shawn asked, without judgment or derision. He asked like he was asking if it would be cold that day or what was for dinner. “I mean… you’re romantic?”

Liam and Zayn shared a glance, Louis had stilled completely next to Harry and Niall turned to Shawn, gaping at him. A knife could cut the tension and Harry felt his heart pound. He liked Shawn and Niall was close to him. But even kind men could still let their friends get killed for homosexuality.

“Mate, you can’t just ask…” Niall started, recovering first. Shawn put a hand on Niall’s knee, pausing what was sure to be a lecture. Niall stared down at Shawn’s hand on his knee in fascination and surprise.

“Niall, I think we all know,” Shawn said matter-of-factly. “I don’t think any of us are in the place to judge anyways.” He looked up and held Niall’s gaze for a moment. Niall nodded slowly, blinking hard. Harry held his breath and he felt more than heard Louis let out a shaky sigh next to him.

“Jesus, Shawn,” Louis said. “You scared the shit out of me.” There was an uneasy chuckle. “You can’t just go asking people that, especially in the army. Someone could get killed.” He didn’t say this unkindly, and Shawn nodded.

“Sorry, mate,” Shawn said, turning red and looking uncertainly at his feet. “I… I’ve just seen you all together and recognized… well.” He shrugged. “It's not every day you find so many of us in one place.” Harry realized with a start that because Shawn was younger than them by several years he might have never realized that he wasn’t alone. That he wasn’t the only one who felt as he did.

Harry exchanged a meaningful look with Louis. “Lou and I were talking about that yesterday. It’s dangerous enough that it's hard to find other men who prefer men. I’ve only known two others aside from myself until the war.”

“We’re the only ones we were aware of till we got here and met Louis,” Zayn said, and Harry noticed with a thrill that Liam let his arm fall around Zayn again. It made him want to pull Louis into his side, feel his heat and his breath on his face. He settled for overlapping his knee in Louis’s lap instead.

“I about had a heart attack when I wrote you that letter, Harry, telling you about me,” Louis said. “That’s why I tried to be vague. I hoped you wouldn’t out me.”

Harry let out a laugh, that was joined by his five friends. “I had a heart attack reading it. I thought it had all been in my head.”

“Definitely not in your head, mate,” Niall said with a smile. “I saw how you read Louis’s letters over and over. You were like my brother when he married my sister-in-law. All starry-eyed and dreamy.”

There was more laughter and Shawn’s cheeks became less red only for a moment. Harry couldn’t help but notice his cheeks colored again every time Niall looked at him or talked to him or nudged him. He felt Louis lean in towards him, letting his shoulder rest against Harry’s chest and tilting his head up to hover his mouth near Harry’s ear.

“What do you figure?” He whispered in Harry’s ear, following his gaze to where Niall and Shawn were laughing about something they hadn’t heard.

“Very good odds,” Harry whispered back, leaning slightly into Louis. “That explains the sock fight yesterday morning.”

Louis chuckled and Harry turned his head, their noses brushing. Harry felt the sudden urge to make Louis laugh often, just so Harry could marvel at the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

Suddenly, there was a shot in the distance and the six of them were up in a flash, hearts pounding.

“Where’d it come from?” Liam asked. They scrambled to gather their things and put their jackets back on.

“North, I think,” Niall responded, pulling out his compass as another shot sounded. “Northwest.” The six of them began running up the hill towards a group of trees, Louis and Shawn leading the way.

The kneeled in the trees each a few feet apart, gazing around them. Liam and Niall were both looking through pairs of binoculars.

“Do you see anything?” Louis asked them, he and Shawn both standing with their guns armed.

“No,” Liam said. “Not here. Niall?”

“Just our camp. Someone must be doing practice drills.” He lowered his binoculars and looked back to the other five. “I think we’re alright.”

Liam nodded. “Stay on the lookout though. I don’t want to be caught off guard.”

Harry looked around at them, the palpable tension slowly fading away, their shoulders relaxing and their breaths deepening. Harry could see the relief in Liam’s eyes. He looked away from Liam’s slouched figure, to Zayn’s focused gaze on Liam, to Shawn’s wide-eyed stare, and then to Niall, who took a step closer to Shawn and rested a gentle hand on his shoulder.  

Harry’s gaze finally met Louis’s then, his piercing blue eyes searching out Harry’s. For just a moment, Louis tangled his fingers in Harry’s, like he had a few times since they’d been together in person. It made Harry feel calm, like no matter what happened around him, those blue eyes and those gentle fingers could ground him, make him focus.  For the first time since the war began, he felt safe.

“You alright, Haz?” Louis asked quietly, the movement of the other four men fading to the background.

Harry nodded. “Ready for the war to be over.”

Louis sighed heavily. “Aren’t we all.”

When the six of them returned to camp that night, they crowded into Harry, Niall, and Shawn’s tent and sang as many upbeat songs as they could think of, led by Niall and Louis. Harry couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like after the war, if the six of them could live in the same town. He thought maybe he’d invite them all over for dinner, and there wouldn’t be any bombs or guns or other marks of war. Just six friends, cozy together in a house with a fire in the grate and tea in their hands. He’d cook a filling dinner and play Glenn Miller in the background, and they’d all be safe from prying eyes. Maybe Louis would live with him and they’d go to bed together after the other four left.

Harry tucked the image away, and it lit the darker corners of his heart.

 

The next few days flew by very much the same: the six of them would be dispatched to scout around the area. The enemy was quiet so they could talk frequently, regaling each other with stories from their hometowns. Shawn asked Zayn and Liam an endless string of questions about being gay men: how they hid, how they’d found out, how they’d fallen in love. Niall, Louis, and Harry looked on with wide grins and Harry found himself soaking up the story of his new friends.

They’d grown up together, Liam and Zayn. Liam had seen Zayn alone on the playground and asked if he wanted to share his sandwich and they’d been inseparable ever since.

“But when did you _know_?” Shawn had asked as they sat for lunch by another stream. Niall had lain down for a nap with his knees propped up and Shawn was leaning against Niall, munching on a piece of jerky.

Zayn had chuckled woefully. “We were…” He glanced at Liam. “Nineteen, I think?”

Liam nodded. “I’d just gone on a date with a girl. It was terrible, but only because I had wanted to spend the evening with Zayn instead.”

“I woke up at two in the morning to Liam tapping on my window.” Zayn interjected.

“I had got home from the date and realized that I didn’t want to hold girls’ hands or take them on dates or anything. I found I just really wanted to do all that with Zayn instead.” Liam turned pink. “So I snuck out of my house and knocked on his bedroom window.”

“He told me later that he came to me in the middle of the night in case I had a bad reaction.” Zayn said with a fond laugh.

“I figured I could pass it off as a weird dream Zayn had had if he shunned me.” Liam shrugged. “But he kissed me instead. We’ve been together ever since.”

Shawn’s eyes were wide and Harry was sure his eyes were wide too. “How did you two end up living together?” Harry asked.

Zayn and Liam exchanged a knowing glance. “To everyone else, we’re just two bachelors sharing a house to save the cost of rent.”

“It’s that easy?” Shawn glanced sideways at Niall, who had woken up and had propped his head in his hands without moving his legs from behind Shawn’s back. Niall grinned at him, a soft grin similar to one Harry had seen on Louis’s face whenever Louis caught Harry doing something that made him laugh.

Liam nodded. “We only tell certain people. The war, as awful as it is, is a good excuse to get away from our mothers telling us to settle down with nice young women.”

Harry had let his mind wonder at that. Gemma and his mother knew of his preferences and never bothered him about settling down with a nice girl, but he knew Gemma worried about him finding companionship.

He had glanced at Louis, who had his face tipped up to the sun with his eyes closed. His eyelashes brushed the tops of his cheeks and Harry had felt the urge to kiss Louis’s eyes course through him. It startled him and thrilled him all at the same time and he wondered what it would be like to have Louis alone enough that Harry could kiss him.

New Year’s Eve dawned bright and clear, with frost dusting the valley and no sign of rain on the horizon. The men were sent out again, this time walking away from camp like the spikes of a bicycle wheel in pairs. Harry jumped at the chance to partner with Louis.

They bid goodbye to Liam and Zayn and Niall and Shawn and set off towards the south, keeping their eyes open. They could see the other pairs within shouting range, but for the first time in several days, Harry and Louis were on their own.

They walked carefully, closely, and Louis tangled his fingers through Harry’s just for a moment. It sent a thrill through Harry’s arm straight to his heart, and gave him a bit of courage.

“You know,” Harry started, simultaneously unsure of how to speak to Louis when it was just the two of them and overwhelmed by all the things he wanted to say. “It’s the first time we’ve actually been almost alone together. Aside from when we reunited.”

“I know.” Louis hummed. “There’s so much I want to talk about with you.”

Harry grinned to himself but they kept walking. “I miss our letters. We were more free to speak on paper. It was nice to know there wouldn’t be someone listening in.”

“Someone could always steal our letters.” Louis pointed out.

Harry shrugged. “True, but have you ever heard of that happening? Our letters from home are too important.”

“Liam thought I was writing to a sweetheart from home for a while.” Louis said, his cheeks turning pink. “He said the way I smiled meant the letters were special.”

Harry sought out Louis’s wrist, gripping it gently and firmly. “Your letters are special to me.” He swallowed and let out a confession he’d held in since Louis’s second letter. “ _You_ are special to me. I have a hard time not touching you every chance I get.”

Louis stopped completely then, looking at Harry so intently, so completely, he was sure Louis could see his soul. Harry wondered wildly if the other pairs had noticed their halt but the look in Louis’s eyes drove the thought away. Louis licked his lips, glanced down at Harry’s lips then back up to his eyes.

“You have no idea…” Louis said. “Meeting you, Harry, was…” He took in a deep breath. “Seeing Zayn and Liam together gives me an idea of what I could have. What we could have. If we want it.” His voice was quiet, soft, and Harry knew they were treading dangerous ground, out in the open where everyone could see.

Harry took a step closer, and Louis’s lips parted, his breath hitching. It made Harry wish they were alone, wish he could trace Louis’s cheekbones and hear what Louis sounded like when Harry kissed him.

“I want it.” Harry said. “I want you.”

There was a whistle, loud and crisp, and Harry looked past Louis’s face to see Niall giving them a slightly panicked stare. Just beyond Niall was one of the soldiers from Louis’s unit staring at them. His face was hard, and calculating and it pulled Harry from the bubble he and Louis had been in. Harry wracked his brain and recalled his name: George. George Branson.

Harry nodded to Niall, then gripped Louis’s wrist and stepped them both forward. The walked closer together now and Louis gripped his own hands together.

“I want to touch you so badly, Harry.” It was a soft admission, but it sent sparks through Harry, and he felt like his heart ignited.

“It’s New Year’s Eve tonight. The men will probably be drinking and singing a bit later than usual.” Harry said roughly. “Think we could sneak away? Just for a bit.”

There was a quiet moment, Louis wringing his hands together and Harry panicking at the pause.

“We could meet behind the kitchen tent.” Louis whispered, even though the pair nearest to them was several meters away and were Niall and Shawn who wouldn’t care about Harry and Louis’s assignation. “We wouldn’t have long but we could meet just before midnight. Ring in the new year together.”

Harry smiled, his heart jumping wildly in his chest. “Perfect.”

They carried out the rest of their patrol easily, meeting up with Niall and Shawn halfway back to camp.

“See anything of note?” Niall asked. Harry couldn’t help but notice that Niall stayed close to Shawn, pointing things out to him, trying to make him laugh.

Louis shook his head. “Nothing. All was calm.”

“All was bright.” Harry said with a cheeky grin as he rubbed his eyes. The visor on his helmet hadn’t done much to keep the sun out of his eyes. His comment got a laugh from the three men though.

“Any ideas how we’ll celebrate the new year?” Shawn asked, pausing to look up into the tree Niall was pointing at. Louis and Harry paused, and Harry lightly tapped Louis on the arm. Louis gave him a knowing grin.

Shawn and Niall were oblivious to their observation. Niall had stepped behind Shawn, his arm reaching in front of them so Shawn could see whatever Niall was showing him. Shawn took a small step back, and Niall’s voice broke.

Louis and Harry turned, giving them privacy and continued walking back towards camp. They were quiet for several paces and then Louis spoke.

“Do you ever reread the letters I’ve sent you?” His voice had a touch of timidity.

Harry just smiled to himself. “Almost every night. You?”

Louis nodded. “Almost every night.” They shared a grin, then schooled their faces as they walked back into camp. Harry felt more than saw George’s suspicious eyes following Louis as they walked back and he bristled. George’s stare was unnerving and dread pooled in Harry’s stomach.

Later that night, Harry stole away from the raucous singing of Niall and several of his fellow soldiers under the guise of needing a walk. He jogged to the kitchen tent, bypassing several other soldiers, saluting each other with whiskey, beer, and whatever else they could find. He slid to a stop just behind the kitchen tent and couldn’t hold back a smile.

Louis was sitting there, a cigarette in one hand, aimlessly blowing smoke into the air. He turned his head and his blue eyes met Harry’s, a mixture of surprise, joy, and nervousness lingering in them.

Harry smiled at him. “Hey Lou.”

Louis smiled back and stood, snuffing his cigarette out with his boot. “Hey Haz. You get away all right?”

“Niall had them singing. It was too easy.” Harry said, glancing around them. No one could see them, unless the Germans were closer to their camp than they thought. He took a step towards Louis, to stand in front of him. They reached for each other’s hands simultaneously and shared a chuckle.

“I…” Louis began. “When we were writing letters, I would imagine what it would be like to have you here, where I could tell you my thoughts in person, rather than through a letter.” He looked down at their hands, entangled together so much Harry had a hard time telling whose fingers were whose.

Harry smiled wide, and he knew his dimples were showing. “You thought about me? About being with me in person?” It sent a thrill up his spine.

Louis nodded. “Did you think about me? Or was I the only one daydreaming?” He smiled nervously.

Harry tugged Louis closer, close enough that he could see the flecks of gold in his eyes, close enough that their chests touched, and Harry bumped Louis’s nose with his own. “I thought about your laugh a lot. About your smile. What it would be like to hold you.” He swallowed. “I never thought I’d get the chance.”

Louis huffed out a laugh, letting loose his breath to the cold air. “I thought about that too.” His voice was still timid, like he was still uncertain that Harry actually cared about him as more than a friend. It made the part of Harry’s heart that wanted to protect Louis restless.

Harry sat down, tugging Louis next to him. Louis landed close, one of his legs draped over Harry’s crossed knee. Harry stretched his legs out in front of him and pulled Louis close to his side, like he’d wanted to the other day. Louis came easily, and Harry grinned to himself as Louis scooched so close that they were slotted together like puzzle pieces, their arms around each other’s waists.

“Have you heard from Gemma recently?” Louis asked quietly, resting his head on Harry’s shoulder. “I got a letter from Lottie with her new address. She’s been stationed near Normandy.”

“The last I heard from Gemma was that she still didn’t know her posting.” Harry replied. “I hope she gets sent to Normandy too. It would probably be nice for them to know someone else in a new place.”

Louis hummed and Harry glanced down. He could just see Louis’s neck, his five o’clock scruff, his Adam’s apple, and the gentle blue of his veins. Harry slowly nestled his nose in the crevice under Louis’s chin and inhaled deeply. Louis smelled of cigarette smoke and linen and sweat and he felt Louis chuckle. Harry’s heart skipped a beat upon realizing that Louis was entirely encompassed in his arms. Harry squeezed him around his waist.

“Are you smelling me?” Louis asked, teasing and tender. He moved back an inch to smile at Harry.

Harry turned red and shrugged abashedly. “And if I am?”

Louis smiled and stretched up to bury his own nose in Harry’s neck. “I couldn’t blame you.” He said softly. It made Harry’s heart melt. “I was sixteen when I knew.” Louis continued. “That I like men, I mean. I told my mother and she…” He trailed off.

“She didn’t hate you for it, did she?” Harry asked, mouth agape. He realized then that Louis hadn’t explicitly said he had a good relationship with his mother.

“Oh god no!” Louis said adamantly. “She’s my best friend. She just chuckled and hugged me. Said she knew the whole time.” He sat back a bit, one of his hands resting on Harry’s shoulder and the other at Harry’s waist. “She did warn me though, that I could get in a lot of trouble if I told anyone. That I could be thrown in prison or something. But she always said that she’d love whoever I decide to share my life with, even if I couldn’t marry them.”

“My mother said the same thing actually.” Harry said. “That she knew and that I could get in a lot of trouble. But she’s never stopped loving me.” He paused, thinking. “I wrote to her about you once actually. Just mentioned that I’d made a friend in Dunkirk and was writing to him.” He smiled ruefully to himself. “She knew I cared for you. She said it was how I’d written about you.”

Louis chuckled. “What did you say?”

“I’m almost positive I said something about your eyes.”

“My eyes?”

“Yes.” Harry said, sure. “They’re gorgeous. Hasn’t anyone told you?”

Louis gaped his mouth at him, opening and closing it like a fish. “Well… I…” He shrugged. “I mean… I did date a girl once, Eleanor. She said that my eyes were her favorite part about me.”

“Did she find out you preferred men?” Harry asked, his eyes wide. No one at home knew of his preference and he had planned to keep it that way. He suddenly wanted to know Louis’s whole story, how he became the man sitting snug in Harry’s arms. Harry had never felt that about anyone before, and for a moment, he was afraid he’d missed Louis’s reply.

But he hadn’t. Louis shook his head. “She and I broke off because there was someone else who wanted her more than I did.” He sighed. “And I’d come to terms with who I am and figured it wouldn’t be fair to lead her on. She wanted children and a home and I couldn’t give her that.” He looked a bit forlorn.

“Do you regret giving her up?” Harry asked, feeling a twinge of uncertainty.

“No.” Louis said, looking right at Harry. “She wouldn’t have been happy and neither would I. The only reason we would have worked was to hide the fact that I would prefer a man in my bed than her. And that’s not fair to her or me. If I can, I’d like to have a life with someone I truly care about, even if it’s behind closed doors.”

Harry gazed at Louis, caught up in the fierceness of his eyes. He felt something curl pleasantly in his stomach, something that warmed up his whole torso and he reached one hand up to brush his fingertips over Louis’s cheekbones. Louis’s eyelids fluttered closed and Harry let out a short relieved breath. Louis’s skin was soft beneath his fingers, his afternoon shadow bristling as he ran his hand along Louis’s cheeks and down to his chin.

Louis opened his eyes carefully and leaned in just an inch. “Harry…” He spoke carefully, slowly. “Since we’re alone...”

But Harry didn’t get to know what Louis was going to say, for at that moment, there was the sound of footsteps and bright laughter and Harry and Louis sprung apart, attempting to act like they hadn’t just been wrapped up entirely in one another. Louis pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, fumbling to light it and Harry tried to still his breathing as Niall and Shawn came around the corner.

Harry almost laughed. Niall had his hand on Shawn’s lower back, Shawn’s arm was wrapped around Niall’s waist and they were laughing about something so close together their noses were touching. Harry cleared his throat.

“Nice night.” He said, feeling much less worried about being caught now. “You two celebrating the New Year?” He could feel Louis take a drag of his cigarette and chuckle next to him.

Niall glanced between Louis and Harry bemusedly before something like realization flickered in his eyes. “Sorry, mate, are we interrupting something?”

“Not anymore.” Louis said, but he stretched out his legs in such a way that his warmth touched Harry still.

“We were…” Shawn started, turning bright red, his hand still around Niall’s waist.

“We thought…” Niall blinked then shrugged. “Sorry. We’ll go find a different spot.” He winked at them, a wry smile on his face, then turned around and tugged Shawn after him by the hand.

Harry glanced over at Louis. The moment was gone, but Harry felt the desire to get closer. He turned to face Louis fully. Louis was blowing smoke, his eyes closed and his cheeks pink.

“I think you were saying something before we were interrupted?” Harry asked, a gentle smirk on his face. Louis opened his eyes and turned to face him. There was whooping behind them, cheers and songs, and in the distance something that sounded like fireworks.  “I think it just turned midnight.”

Louis smiled at him softly, his cigarette held loosely in his hands. “Happy New Year, Harry.”

Harry smiled back. “Happy New Year, Lou.”

They leaned back against the tent, and Harry wrapped his arm around Louis again, kissing his temple. It wasn’t a kiss on the lips, but it still felt like a promise.

The new year dawned rainy and grey. Harry woke up to Niall cursing to himself, the sound of splashing just beyond his sleepy eyes.

He rolled over and groaned, opening his eyes carefully only to see Niall sitting on his cot, glaring grumpily down at the floor.

“Niall, why are you upset with the ground?” Harry mumbled.

Niall didn’t even look up. “Because, Harry. It’s rained and I just stepped in a puddle and I don’t have a pair of clean socks within reach.”

On his other side, Harry heard Shawn shuffling around. He rolled onto his back and watched as Shawn, already dressed, his boots keeping his feet dry, tossed a pair of socks to Niall.

“Borrow mine, Niall.” He said with a smile. “The ground doesn’t need you glaring at it today.”

“He’s right, Niall.” Harry said. “The sun is gone so the ground is probably very sad.”

Niall put the socks on his feet and threw both Shawn and Harry withering looks. He muttered something to himself about wet feet and warm socks.

“Shall we go get breakfast then?” Shawn asked. “I saw Louis and Liam and Zayn already at the kitchen tent.”

Harry nodded and sat up quickly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Oh and Harry,” Shawn said, pulling a bundle of paper from his pocket and holding it out to Harry. “Louis passed this to me to give to you.” He smirked, and Harry took it with a surprised smile. He dressed, put the letter in his pocket, and followed Niall and Shawn out to the kitchen tent.

“... I’m just saying I think the lyric should be different.” Shawn was saying, fondness laced through his speech. Harry could appreciate how easily he carried his emotions on his sleeve but sometimes feared for him too.

“But it’s my song…” Niall started.

“It’s _our_ song, Niall Horan, and you know it.” Shawn said as he led the three of them to grab plates of breakfast.

Niall rolled his eyes, also fond.

“You two are like an old married couple.” Harry said, carrying his plate to where Zayn had beckoned them over and sitting down next to Louis. “Honestly, the way you two argue.”

Louis, Liam, and Zayn laughed and Niall and Shawn just grinned at each other.

“Did you get my letter?” Louis said quietly to Harry. Harry grinned, memorizing for a moment the blue of Louis’s eyes.

“I did, but I haven’t read it yet.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled it out. Louis placed his hand on the letter.

“Don’t read it here.” Louis whispered, looking around urgently.

“Why not?” Harry said. “I haven’t had a letter from you in weeks. Maybe I’m desperate for news from you!” He was teasing and Louis smirked back, his eyes crinkling and a chuckle escaping his lips.

“Alright, fine, but I want a letter back. No excuses.” Louis said, shaking his finger in Harry’s face.

“I wouldn’t dream of not answering.” Harry replied, taking a bite of his biscuit and slowly opening the letter. The other five carried on a conversation but Harry blocked them out as Louis’s familiar handwriting came into view.

_January 1, 1941_

_My dear Harry,_

_You said yesterday that you missed our letters and I couldn’t agree more. I love being near you, I love being able to look across camp and see you, real and alive and here, with me. But you being here means I have to be more careful too. I have to watch my back and yours, and I have to pay attention to how we could be perceived._

_I hate it, because it means I can’t talk with you the way I really want to. I can’t touch you as I’d like or be as close to you as I’d like. And I’d really, really like to._

_But yesterday you said you missed our letters, and I figure that there’s no reason to stop writing them just because we’re in the same place. It might be good for us. I doubt the boys want to hear our more heartfelt conversations. Although, I wouldn’t be surprised if Shawn enjoyed them._

_I have never experienced happiness quite like seeing you walk through the doors of the tent when your regiment arrived. I thought I was dreaming but then you touched me and laughed and I couldn’t have imagined your dimples if I tried._

_Did you know Liam and Zayn write notes to each other every day? I don’t think they’re as long as this letter I’m writing you, but they were the ones who gave me the idea that we could still write. I hope you’ll write back. I miss your letters and I like knowing what you’re thinking._

_Yours,_

_Louis_

Harry glanced around him and reached a hand to Louis’s thigh. He gave him a quick squeeze, eliciting a surprised squeak from Louis who looked at him with wide eyes and a questioning smirk.

“You write nice letters.” Harry said, his hands safely back in lap. “I forgot how soothing they are.” He felt heady with wondering exactly _how_ Louis wanted to touch him. Harry laced his own fingers together, the itch to run his hands along Louis’s back hard to resist.

“You’ll write me back, right?” Louis asked, seemingly oblivious to Harry’s torment and nibbling on his own biscuit. “This can’t be a one way street.” He winked.

Harry chuckled but didn’t answer as the regiments were called to order. They had another long day of patrolling ahead of them.

 

 _January 2, 1941_  

_Dear Louis,_

_I think your idea is genius. I once tried talking to Niall about Murder on the Orient Express, because he’d read it right when it came out. It was a fairly short conversation. He isn’t much of a reading man… he’s more into films, which he and Shawn can talk about for hours. I’ve listened to them wax poetic about Jimmy Stewart so much I don’t think I need to actually see any of his films_  

_Speaking of which, do you think there’s something going on there? Between Niall and Shawn? I feel a bit like my mother asking (she always asked after the new babies or the new sweethearts in town… it was her favorite topic), but they seem a bit enamoured with one another. Don’t you think?_

_Seeing you in person was… indescribable, Louis. I walked past your tent and thought I was hearing things but then I saw you and I couldn’t have stayed away if I tried. I’m grateful that we get to patrol together. I find myself wanting nothing more than to be near you._

_I never imagined that I’d find someone I could care about. The only other men I knew like me were much older and had lived together for most of their lives. I assumed that I wouldn’t find anyone else like me, especially in the army where the risk is so high. But now I’ve found five more of us and I feel much less alone and much less in the wrong._

_Did you ever feel that, growing up? That maybe something about you was wrong or incorrect? My mum always said God doesn’t make mistakes and she said it too the night I told her about me._

_I want to keep writing letters, but please stay safe. We’ll be under suspicion if we’re caught writing letters to one another and I couldn’t bear the thought of putting you in danger._

_Yours,_

_Harry_

 

Louis didn’t write a response for five days and Harry couldn’t help but feel a bit bereaved each time he wasn’t handed a new letter. Louis noticed on the fifth morning and reached under the table and squeezed Harry’s thigh reassuringly. 

“I’m staying safe.” He whispered and Harry found himself unable to fault Louis in the slightest. Harry became even more resolved to be careful when he saw George Branson purposely run into Louis while he was laughing with Liam and Zayn later that afternoon. Harry had run over and asked if he was alright. Louis had shrugged it off but Harry didn’t miss the pinched look of worry on Liam’s face.

The next morning passed without another letter, but that evening Liam came by and dropped off a bundle of letters at Harry’s tent.

“There was a new round of mail brought in today and I thought I’d grab yours.” Liam said, handing three letters to Harry. He immediately recognized his mother’s elegant script, Gemma’s quick scrawl, and Louis’s loopy print.

“Thanks, Liam.” Harry said as Liam sat down next to him. “Did you get anything from home?”

“Just a letter from my mum. She won’t stop asking me about this girl in town who appeared to be sweet on me before I left.” He scratched his forehead, evidently tired of having the same conversation over and over.

“She doesn’t know about…” Harry glanced around, but they were the only ones in the tent, aside from Niall and Shawn, who were seated on opposite ends of Shawn’s bed, reading letters. “About Zayn? And you?”

Liam shook his head. “I told her once that I was interested in boys and she said it was a phase.” He rolled his eyes. “That I hadn’t met the right girl yet.” He played with a ring on his right ring finger. “What she doesn’t know, is that I’ve had a crush on Zayn since before I could even remember, I just never knew that it was actually me loving him. Girls have never stood a chance.”

Harry smirked and said, “I mean, have you seen his cheekbones?” Liam grinned appreciatively and laughed. Harry sobered. “Do you think you’ll ever tell her? That it’s not a phase?”

Liam shrugged. “At war, there’s no point. When we return… maybe. I’d rather not have her pestering me for the rest of my life. And I want her to know Zayn as truly mine, not just my best friend.”

“I can understand that.” Harry said. He thought for a moment of what it would be like to introduce Louis to his mother and Gemma as _his_. Harry’s.

“What about you?” Liam asked. “Does your family know about Louis?"

Harry’s cheeks turned pink. “They know I don’t like girls. And I’ve written to my mum about Louis. I didn’t mention anything outright but she knew. She says mothers always know.” He grinned down at the letters in his hands. His three favorite people.

Liam nudged his shoulder. “Well, count yourself lucky.” He stood. “I’ll leave you to your letters.” He waved to Niall and Shawn. “Do you three want to meet us for dinner?”

“Absolutely!” Shawn said. Niall poked Shawn’s thigh with his toe, and the two exchanged bright smiles as Liam left the tent. “How many letters did you get, Harry?”

“Three. Mum, my sister, Louis. You?"

Shawn grinned. “One from my mom and drawings from my little sisters.” He showed Harry a rough pencil sketch of a brook in a valley.

“It’s beautiful.” He said.

“Yeah, my middle sister is quite the artist.” He folded the letter and nodded to the letters in Harry’s hand. “Enjoy then.”

Harry grinned and leaned back on his pillow, opening up the letter from his mother first.

_December 25, 1940_

_My darling boy,_  

_Merry Christmas. It was lovely to receive your last letter. It arrived the day that Gemma left for Normandy and was a great comfort to me. All is quiet here at home. No new babies or marriages to report, although Alfie Dunham came home last week, just in time for Christmas. Poor thing lost his left shin but he seemed in high spirits and his sweetheart was just grateful to have him home, I think._

_And speaking of sweethearts, I must ask… have you found one?  You spoke rather fondly of Louis, and he seems like a kind sort of man. You’ll have to bring him to meet me when you return._

_I do hope you’re well. I know I said before, but I did worry about you when you came home after Dunkirk. You seemed so downtrodden. Your last letter reminded me of my happy, passionate son again, and I can’t help but be grateful that you’ve found friends like Louis who seem to perk you up._

_Much love,_

_Mum_

Harry read the letter again, trying not to smile too wide at his mother’s mention of Louis as his sweetheart. He couldn’t help but want to call Louis his sweetheart, but they still seemed fragile. He knew Louis cared for him, and he cared for Louis. But it was hard to know anything for sure in war.

He frowned a little to himself and opened Gemma’s letter.

_December 28, 1940_

_Harry,_

_Little brother, you certainly sounded cheerful in your last letter. Have you met someone? Don’t tease me for sounding like Mum, you would ask the same question._

_I’ve settled in here and you’ll never believe who I’ve met: Lottie Tomlinson! Your friend Louis’s sister! We’re working with different groups but at the same location. We apparently wrote letters to each other and mailed them at the same time because two days ago I went to check my mail and she walked in at the same time and received the letter I had written her just five days prior!_

_She’s lovely of course and if your Louis is anything like her, I can see why you’re so fond of him. And don’t deny it, I can tell by how you wrote about him. A particular phrase of “the many shades of blue in his eyes” comes to mind._

_I haven’t had much time to write, unfortunately. I’m not surprised but I had hoped. There was a bit of bad bombing a few days ago and we had an influx of soldiers in with missing limbs. Please find a way to keep all your limbs, baby brother. Losing one is a gruesome business._

_Please tell Louis thanks as well for introducing Lottie and me. She and I meet for tea on our breaks and it’s nice to be making a friend here. I miss you loads._

_Love,_

_Gemma_

Harry gaped at his sister’s letter for so long that Niall nudged him with his foot.

“You alright, Harry?” He looked bemusedly at Harry.

“My sister and Louis’s sister are stationed as nurses in the same place!” He said, glancing at the letter again. “I can’t believe it.”

“First you and Louis here and your sisters too?” Shawn said, amazed. “You don’t hear of that every day.” 

Harry shook his head incredulously. “It’s amazing.” Niall and Shawn muttered their agreement and went back to writing replies to their families.

Harry set his mother’s and Gemma’s letters aside and opened up Louis’s, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at the familiar handwriting.

_January 8, 1941_

_My dear Harry,_

_I’m sorry for the delay, but as I told you yesterday, I was keeping safe. Plus the mail was arriving today and it would seem less suspicious what with all of us writing replies to family. And I figured having Liam deliver this would be less conspicuous._

_Believe me though… I’ve wanted to write every day. That hasn’t changed now that we’re in the same place. There’s still so much I wish I could do and say with you._

_And yes. Something is happening with Niall and Shawn._

Harry took his gaze off the letter for a moment to peek up at Niall and Shawn on the next bed over. They were still sitting on either end of the bed, but Shawn was gently rubbing his toes along Niall’s thigh and Niall had one of his feet resting in Shawn’s lap. Shawn was tracing circles on the top of Niall’s foot and he passed something to Niall that made them both laugh.

_I like Shawn. He’s kind and open. He hasn’t been jaded yet. And does he ever frown? You’re lucky to have them both in your company. I can only imagine that when they’re together they’re a happy pair. I hope they can make it out of the war together._

_To be bold, I hope we can make it out of the war together too._

_I remember once when I was a kid, I got beat up in the schoolyard. I didn’t fight back, because my mum told me that all bullies want is a reaction. I’d gotten into fights before, I could hold my own, but that time, I tried to run away instead of fight back. The guy beating on me called me… well, when I told my mum a few years later I thought I was going to get my mouth washed out with soap._

_The worst part, though, was that the boy bullying me had held my hand a week earlier. He’d sworn me to secrecy, said it was our secret and I’d trusted him because we’d been neighbors for a few years. I don’t think I ever gave him special attention but I came home with a black eye and a pretty clear message: holding hands with boys was dangerous._

_I cried myself to sleep that night. Mum didn’t ask what was wrong or what happened but I wouldn’t be surprised if she knew. Mums know everything, after all._

_But I’ve never thought how I am is wrong or a mistake. Dangerous, yes, but I like to hope that someday it won’t be a crime to love whomever I want to._

_Yours,_

_Louis_

Harry looked up from the letter, his chest tight with a sudden and intense need to know Louis was alright. He knew it was irrational, that Louis was a grown man, that he probably wasn’t beat up by bullies anymore, that he was probably reading letters from his sisters in his own tent, warm and safe. But the protectiveness Harry had felt when he’d first seen Louis again came back in full force. He glanced around his tent quickly. 

Niall and Shawn were still sitting on the bed next to him and the other men had slowly started returning. Harry stood, stuffed his letters in his back pocket, put his shoes on and strode out of the tent and towards Louis’s.

Louis’s tent wasn’t full, most of the rest of his regiment wrestling in the yard or talking over beer rations. Louis was sitting on his bed reading letters, Liam and Zayn were talking a few beds over, and a few other men were napping on their cots. Harry made his way to Louis, who looked up with surprised eyes.

“Harry!” He said smiling. Harry didn’t smile back, but sat down in front of Louis’s crossed legs and glanced around before wrapping his fingers around Louis’s ankle. “Are you alright?” Louis looked concerned and reached a hand down to trace slow, gentle circles on the back of Harry’s hand.

“I got your letter.” He said, tightening his grip on Louis’s ankle. “That should never have happened to you.” His face felt hard, tense. His voice felt tight, coiled like a spring and he watched as Louis looked around the room behind Harry before reaching a tentative hand to Harry’s cheek.

“It wasn’t the only time.” He said softly. His eyes looked sad. “Being as slight and as flamboyant as I am… I should have known better, but I’m not exactly the kind to just go with the crowd.” He shrugged. “I’m alright. I’m no worse for wear.”

Harry gripped the fingers stroking his cheek. “It shouldn’t have happened. You’re too good.” He felt angry, angry and helpless like he hadn’t since Dunkirk. He took in a deep breath.

“Haz.” Louis' voice was soft and quiet, but firm. “It’s in the past. I’m a fucking army man now, I can protect myself.” He was teasing gently, and Harry knew it, but it didn’t ease the tightness in his chest.

Harry nodded vaguely, feeling the irrational need to protect Louis, this time more ferocious. Louis’s fingers traced across his eyelids, cause them to close, and the intensity of his feelings frightened him just enough to calm him down. He let out a breath.

“I…” Harry swallowed hard, then tried again. “I don’t like the idea of anyone hurting you. Not when I’m here and I can protect you. I want you safe.” He opened his eyes and was met with Louis’s piercing blues, a soft smile on his face, the sadness in his eyes replaced by something that could be called fondness.

“I do feel safe with you,” Louis said. “But you don’t need to right every wrong in my past.”

Harry sighed. “Can I make your future right, then?” He said it quietly, so quietly that only Louis could hear it.

Louis grinned, wide this time, wide enough that his eyes crinkled. He leaned a little closer to Harry. “I’d like that.”

“You have no idea how much I want to kiss you,” Harry said, his intense anger turning to boldness, taking in Louis’s unhindered smile.

“If it’s as much as I want to kiss you, then I might have an idea,” Louis said, his hand still resting on Harry’s cheek. It would be so easy to lean forward, so easy to pull Louis to him and kiss him.

Instead, Harry took in a breath and hung his head, gripping Louis’s ankle with one hand and his calf with the other. “I wish we could.”

Louis leaned forward then and rested his forehead against Harry’s just for a moment. “Me too.” He whispered, then pulled back, much too soon for Harry’s liking, but two of Louis’s fellow soldiers walked in, casting curious glances towards them sitting on his cot. Harry glared at them.

“No need to go glaring at everyone,” Louis said wryly. “You could kill with that look, you know.” He was teasing again and this time Harry felt a bit of tension ease from his shoulders. He felt a chuckle bubble up out of him.

“Sorry.” He said abashedly. “I can get a bit worked up when the people I lo… the people I care about are hurt.”

“I understand,” Louis replied, leaning back on his pillow, his eyes searching Harry’s. “Did you get any letters from your mum or Gemma?” 

"Oh! I almost forgot!” Harry cried and pulled out his letters, separating Gemma’s from the pile. “Have you heard from Lottie? Gemma said they met!”

Louis’s eyes widened and he sat up eagerly. “Did they really?”

Harry handed Gemma’s letter to Louis. He watched Louis read it, his eyebrows flying to his forehead in shock.

“Amazing.” He stared at the letter. “That we met and that they met.”

“I know,” Harry replied. He glanced aside at Liam and Zayn, who looked like they were sleeping in their cots now. “I’m glad she has a friend. War is hard enough without friends.”

“Indeed.” Louis was rereading the letter now and smirked up at Harry. “You really did talk about the shades of blue in my eyes!” He pointed to the spot in Gemma’s letter and Harry’s cheeks turned pink. He chuckled nervously but shrugged. In for a penny, in for a pound.

“Mostly I liked that she called you mine,” Harry said quietly. His heart was beating rapidly inside his chest but he couldn’t mind it too much. Louis was looking at him in a way that reminded Harry a bit of the sun: radiant, bright, and impossible to forget.

 

_January 10, 1941_

_Dearest Louis,_

_We’ll make it out, Lou. Don’t worry._

_I’ve been thinking a bit more about what I’d like to do after the war… I know I mentioned the bakery and a garden. You don’t seem like the gardening type, but I’d gladly have your company. And I think I mentioned I want a house. More like a cottage. Something cozy. With big bookshelves and a fireplace and a cozy chair. Maybe two cozy chairs where we could sit and discuss books over pastries._

_I’ve also been thinking a bit about asking you why you joined the war effort. I know it was practically required but still… I’d like to know. You made some comments when we were at Dunkirk about how you want to hold on to your humanity. What made you put it in jeopardy in the first place?_  

_Last night I was one of the first ones back to the tent after dinner and I walked in on Shawn and Niall… well, I’m not sure what they were doing exactly… it looked like Shawn was trying to teach Niall the foxtrot, but failing miserably. They had their arms around each other, laughing uncontrollably. It made me a bit envious… I’d like to dance with you._

_I’ve never really had anyone beat me up or call me names for who I am but I’ve also always been a bit more subdued. I got in one fight and the other boy ended up in the hospital. He was fine but I was mostly ignored after that. Gemma says I can be pretty frightful when I’m angry._

_Yours,_

_Harry_

 

_January 14, 1941_

_Dearest Harry,_

_We better make it out. That cottage with the chairs and the fireplace and the books sounds perfect. And I will have you know that I am fantastic at weeding!_

_I’ll tell you why I joined the war but I’d like to hear why you joined too. I joined for selfish reasons. I felt like I wasn’t going anywhere with my life and figured the war effort was as good a place as any. My grandfather had fought in the Great War though and he wasn’t happy with me joining. But he was the one who encouraged me to find ways to hold on to my humanity and get as creative as I could. It’s why I pitched the idea of writing letters to you._

_I feel most human, most myself when I’m writing a letter to you or reading one you’ve written me. When I can hear Zayn and Liam talking quietly or when I hear Liam and Niall singing. I’ve found that reading helps and dreaming about home helps._

_And you help. It scares me sometimes just how human you make me feel._

_Yours, with so many things I wish to say,_

_Louis_

 

Harry was returning from the bathroom when he heard raised voices coming from Louis’s regiment’s tent. Harry paused, vaguely wondering where Louis was when he heard Louis’s voice. He sounded tense and Harry changed his course, striding into the tent to a scene that made his blood run cold.

George Branson stood just in front of Louis, a finger in his face and his bulky form towering over Louis, who stood defiantly still, fists at his side. Behind each of them were a few other soldiers, one had a hand on George’s shoulder, apparently holding him back, and Liam was sitting on his cot just behind Louis, looking at the scene with concern.

“... you’re a nancy boy and a fag.” George was saying, spitting out the words. He wagged his finger in Louis’s face, his own brow furrowed into a tight frown. “You shouldn’t even be here.”

Harry felt his heart skip a beat, and shoot up his chest. His breath became shallow and his visioned tunneled, until all he could see was Louis, all he wanted to do was protect Louis.

“You have no proof and you’re a coward for thinking you can make yourself look strong by telling lies,” Louis said, sass and stubbornness seeping through his tone. “Do you think you’re going to defeat the Germans by picking on your own team?”

George didn’t respond, instead, he coiled back his arm and swung a punch at Louis who ducked. Harry was at his side in seconds, running to stand in between George and Louis, his stance readying to block another punch. George looked affronted and Harry felt Louis rest a hand on his lower back, a calming presence. But one that made Harry’s need to protect Louis all the more urgent.

“Are you insane?” Harry asked, his blood boiling. “You can’t go around making accusations like that.” The idea of Louis dying flitted through his mind and he shoved it away, unwilling to confront it.

“What’s this, your boyfriend?” George sneered, his eyes darting between Harry and Louis.

“Fuck off,” Harry said, feeling fear and anger coursing through his veins in equal measure.

“Harry, it’s alright,” Louis said quietly.

“Can’t fight your own battles?” George said, the words darting out of his tongue like bullets. “You’re that much of a pussy, are you?

“Now see here.” Liam’s voice came from Harry’s left side. He hadn’t even seen Liam stand up. Liam was a calm and firm presence and immediately, Harry felt more at ease. “There’s no need to be flinging around wild accusations. If you have pent up energy, George, then you can go run a few laps around the tent. Don’t take it out on the rest of the regiment and don’t start a fight.”

Louis’s hand on Harry’s lower back slid to his waist and gently pulled him to take a step back. George was seething, but his darting eyes caused Harry’s tunnel vision to broaden to take in Liam to his left, Louis just behind him, and Zayn, Niall, and Shawn looking in from the tent’s entrance.

Harry turned to Louis, keeping George in his peripheral vision. “Let’s go, Lou. You don’t need to give him the time of day.” George scowled but let them go without a fuss. Harry, Louis, and Liam walked out of the tent, Niall, Shawn, and Zayn following close behind.

“Are you alright, Lou?” Zayn asked quietly as Liam led them towards the kitchen tent. Harry let himself grasp Louis’s wrist, and Louis adjusted his hand so their fingers were tangled together. Louis gave him a squeeze before letting go.

“What happened back there?” Niall asked quietly. The group walked behind the kitchen tent and Zayn pulled out a few cigarettes, passing them around to Louis, Harry, and lit one himself.

“George just had some pent-up energy. It’s fine.” Louis said, letting out a long breath.

“It’s fine that he decided to expose you in front of the whole regiment?” Harry said. His blood wasn’t boiling anymore, but he still felt angry. Angry that someone had taken a shot at Louis, angry that someone could care so little that they would risk Louis’s life just to release some pent-up energy. “I should have punched him.” He muttered under his breath. He rubbed his face. “He should never have said that.” He looked at Louis and Louis looked back, his face grim but resigned.

“There’s no harm done, Harry.”

“I can’t…” Harry started then sighed, looking down at his feet. His fight flew out of him.

Liam and Zayn exchanged a glance. “We’ll give you two a minute. Don’t stay on your own for too long.” Liam said, ushering Shawn and Niall back around the tent.  

Louis and Harry were left alone, and Harry took one last drag of his cigarette, before dropping it to the ground and snubbing it out with his boot. With one glance behind him, he stepped forward and pulled Louis into an embrace, aiming to get as close to him as he could.  

“I was so scared.” He whispered, burying his nose in Louis’s hair. Louis fidgeted to drop his cigarette too and hugged Harry back, his face resting in the crook of Harry’s shoulder. “I thought that I was going to lose you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Harry,” Louis muttered into his shoulder before looking up, his blue eyes twinkling. “I have you waiting for me, right?”

“You’re damn right,” Harry said, his arms tightening around Louis, the first hints of a grin sneaking onto his face. “You said we’d get out of this war and I’m counting on it.”

Louis smiled. “We will.” He stood on his tiptoes, nosing along Harry’s cheeks. “There’s so much I want with you.”

“It’s yours,” Harry said. “I’m yours.” His breathing had deepened and he could feel Louis’s breath on his cheek.

Louis hummed. “Good. ‘Cause I’m yours.” He nosed across Harry’s lips then tilted his head up, tangling one of his hands in Harry’s hair to pull his face down. The next instant, Louis’s lips were on his.

Harry wound his arms around Louis and pulled him ever closer, Louis’s hand in his hair and his arm around Harry’s neck keeping their lips perfectly together. It was bliss and Harry felt the leftover anger in his chest recede as Louis’s lips pressed against his, soft and gentle and urgent.

Harry pressed back, flicking his tongue out to slide along Louis’s mouth. Louis opened his lips with a sigh and Harry slid his tongue into Louis, feeling his warmth like a stable sort of comfort. Louis’s tongue slid around Harry’s and for just a few seconds, they rested in a moment just for them, kissing and exploring each other’s mouths, the rest of the world fading away.

They parted, both slightly out of breath. Harry looked down to see Louis’s lips bright red and slightly wet and Harry grinned. He ducked his head down, nipping at Louis’s bottom lip. Louis chuckled.

“Thank you.” He said softly. “I can fight my own battles, but it’s nice knowing I have you in my corner.” Harry noticed a few tears on his cheeks and kissed them away. “I was scared too. I don’t know what I would have done if you and Liam hadn’t been there.”

“You’re not alone, Lou.” Harry gripped Louis’s waist tightly. “You’ve made me feel more human than I ever have in this war. You’re gold, Lou. I’d do anything to protect you.” Harry said, the words rushing out of him like the tension falling from his shoulders.

Louis wiped at his eyes and let out a shaky breath. “I mean it when I say I want to get out of this war together. I’ve never met someone who I’m so drawn to.” Harry ran his fingers along Louis’s cheek. “I want to know you outside of war. I want you to know me.”

Harry cupped Louis’s cheek. “That means we have to get out of this alive, then. I think I promised you a cottage with cozy chairs and endless books.”

“Endless?” Louis whispered with a smirk. “That sounds perfect.”

Harry hummed, leaning in again to kiss Louis, this time letting Louis’s tongue into his own mouth, his knees buckling at Louis’s eager curiosity, and the way his hands tangled into Harry’s hair. Harry slowly backed them up against the tent wall, pressing Louis as close to him as possible.

Louis let out a high pitched, soft moan that had Harry gripping his waist. They broke apart, and Louis’s eyes burned into Harry’s.

“Someday soon, I want to be alone with you. Truly alone.” Louis said, his eyes blown, his voice thick with emotion. “I want to know all of you.”

“Soon,” Harry promised, kissing Louis firm and long. “Soon, I’ll know you completely and you’ll know me.” It was a heady promise and Harry felt he could stay in that moment with Louis forever.  

There was a cough from around the corner. “They’re calling for sleep, mates.” And Niall emerged, unsurprised at Harry and Louis’s stance, Louis’s hands in Harry’s hair and Harry’s arms tightly wound around Louis. “I’m sorry.” Niall looked a bit forlorn.

Harry took a reluctant step back, his hands lingering on Louis for as long as he could. They both took a deep breath and Niall smiled at them ruefully.

“It’s shit, isn’t it?” He said. “Having to hide?”

Harry nodded. “I envy Zayn and Liam getting time in their own home together before the war.”

“They’re the lucky ones,” Louis said. Niall shuffled from foot to foot.

“Shawn and I almost got caught the other night.” He said carefully, looking at his hands. “It scared the shit out of me but all I could think about was that I didn’t want him to die.”

Harry reached out a hand to Niall’s shoulder. “We understand.”

“Someday we’ll all get to love whomever we want to love,” Louis said. Niall smiled at that. The three men returned to their camp and Harry bid Louis a longful goodbye as he and Niall entered their tent.

As he climbed into bed, he noticed that Shawn had switched beds with another soldier. He and Niall were whispering back and forth, and in the darkness, Harry thought he could see them reach out to each other, hands lingering together for just an instant. It made him smile, hope spreading in his chest.

He closed his eyes and felt Louis’s warmth on his lips. He smiled and slept, dreaming of a cottage by the sea and waking up to Louis in his bed.

 

February dawned warm and bright. The soldiers woke up and stepped out of their tents, looking up to the sky with eyes wide.

“It’s almost 15 degrees!” One of the soldiers from Louis’s regiment said to his friends as Harry walked past them to get to breakfast on time. It had been solidly closer to zero degrees for months but now as Harry sat down next to Louis and shrugged off his coat, he felt a bit of relief at removing the layer.

“Who knew it would be so warm, huh?” Niall said, reaching across Zayn to grab the bowl of porridge and dumping it into his bowl. “We’ll probably get sent out for longer patrols again.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Liam said. “I’ve been getting a bit stir-crazy.” Zayn rolled his eyes fondly.

“You don’t get stir-crazy, Liam,” Zayn said. “Just bored.”

“I like to be occupied,” Liam replied. Zayn sent him a look that had Harry laughing and blushing at the same time.

“Regardless, I hope they mix the regiments again,” Louis said. “I’d rather patrol with you all than with George again.”

They all hummed in agreement. It had been a sore point for Harry, watching Louis walk off in a group with George every day. Two nights before they’d snuck to their spot behind the kitchen tent, and had had… words. It had set Harry on edge, seeing Louis with George, knowing what George thought of Louis. Harry had voiced his concerns, told him he worried, asked if Louis could get a change of position.

“If I do that’ll make it obvious something’s wrong, Haz.”

“Something is wrong!”

“Not wrong enough for me to request a change.”

“I don’t trust him.”

“I don’t either. I’m being careful.” Louis had looked at Harry with an exasperated look on his face. “Besides, I can handle it.”

“I know you can but I just…”

“Like protecting me.” Louis had said, the beginnings of a wry smile showing up on his face. “But don’t belittle me, alright?”

“I’m not trying to.”

“I know. The only way we're going to get out of this is if we trust each other.” Louis had rested his hands on Harry’s chest, playing with one of the buttons of his uniform. “George won’t do anything, not when there are so many other men around. He was drunk that night anyway, I found out later.”

“He was?” Harry had asked, surprised.

Louis had nodded. “I’m fine. Trust me.”

Harry had nodded reluctantly, but by then they’d had to return to their regiments. Harry hadn’t had a chance to kiss Louis in a week. His whole body was sore with wanting to touch Louis, aching to hold him.

He shuffled in his seat on the bench and let his thigh rest closely to Louis’s. In response, Louis reached across Harry for the jam jar, his arm brushing Harry’s chest.

“I’d just like to see more of the countryside,” Shawn said, sipping his coffee ration with a grimace. “I doubt I’ll be able to come back to France after the war.”

“Ah, you can’t say that,” Niall said. “You can’t know what’s coming for you.”

“Death for most of us,” Zayn muttered under his breath. Liam turned white and gripped his arm. Harry coughed and Niall outright glared at Zayn.

“Don’t you dare say that again,” Liam said sternly. Zayn swallowed and apologized, his arm moving in a way that suggested he was patting Liam’s thigh under the table.

“Sorry mates,” Zayn said abashedly. “Just feeling a little down today.”

“It’s alright,” Louis said. “Today will be fine, you’ll see.”

To Harry’s relief (and to Louis’s, who visibly relaxed), he and Louis were sent out in a group with Niall, Shawn, Zayn, and Liam again. This time they took one of the tanks to get a bit farther away from camp. Niall hopped in the driver’s seat while Louis took the place of the gun at the top. The other men squeezed in. Harry sat by Louis’s feet. Shawn was crouched next to Niall, the two of them examining a map.

“You know how to drive this monster?” Zayn asked Niall, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket.

“We had them when we were in the south,” Niall said absently as he started the tank and sent it forward. It moved along with a roll and a hum and Harry craned his neck to see if he could see which way they were going. “I’m not the best shot so I prefer to be in charge of the heavy machinery.”

Louis chuckled and Harry felt the rumble in his calves. “Good thing I’m up here then.” He muttered so that only Harry could hear. Harry had seen what a good shot Louis was. He was clever and almost always hit his mark. 

They drove along for several miles, each of them quiet due to the loudness of the truck. Harry wrapped his hand around Louis’s calf, gently massaging it. Louis glanced down at him, smirking with fondness in his eyes. Harry looked up at Louis and had to catch his breath. Louis was wreathed in golden sunlight, making the wispy hair around his face seem brighter. On impulse, Harry kissed Louis’s knee, then ducked his head, his cheeks flaming red. Louis chuckled and ran a hand through Harry’s hair.

Niall brought the tank to a halt, and Liam and Zayn were the first out, Liam bouncing on his heels. Niall and Shawn followed next, and Louis and Harry last.

“Do you think we’ll get a leave soon?” Niall asked as they surveyed the area around them. “I could use a normal bed.”

“Leave to go where?” Zayn asked. “It’s not like we can mosey on over to Paris for the weekend.”

Liam scoffed and leaned in to whisper something that made Zayn smirk at him. Harry could hazard a guess. It was probably in the same family of things he wanted to whisper to Louis.

Liam and Zayn walked away a few paces, checking the map and scoping out the terrain. They were near a village that looked abandoned and no sound could be heard. Niall followed Shawn around to the other side of the tank to double check some mechanics. Louis made to walk towards Liam and Zayn, but Harry grasped his wrist and pulled him back. Louis came willingly, and let himself be pulled close.

He looked up at Harry with a twinkle in his eye. “Something on your mind?” Louis asked, his eyes crinkling from his smile.

Harry grinned down, his dimples showing. “You.” He let the hand around Louis’s wrist thread through his fingers. “It’s been ages since I’ve kissed you.”

Louis stood on tiptoes after a quick glance around. Liam and Zayn were whispering to each other and entirely ignoring Harry and Louis. Louis nosed at Harry’s cheek. “I dream about kissing you.” He ran his nose along Harry’s jawline. “And other things.”

Harry couldn't help but chuckle, his grip on Louis tightening. “It’s those other things that keep me up at night.”

They chuckled, exchanging flirtatious smiles as Liam called them over. They joined him and Zayn, ignoring the fond eye roll Zayn sent their way.

“General Bates wanted us to see if we could see any trace of the Germans here,” Liam said. “He said something about trying to track where they’ve been so we can perhaps get an idea of their next movements.”

“Should we wait for Niall and Shawn?” Zayn asked.

“I think they’re staying with the tank,” Louis said. Liam nodded and the four of them set off, walking out like the spokes on a wheel. Occasionally they shouted information to each other but Harry walked in quiet thought for most of the afternoon.

He let his mind wander to a few days’ leave. He agreed with Niall… a proper bed would be nice. Sharing that proper bed with Louis would be even better. In their few days of learning each other, of clandestine kisses and soft moments, Harry had an idea of the noises Louis could make when he was excited or nervous or enthusiastic. Harry wanted to know all of them, wanted to know what it would be like to wake up next to Louis.

He thought too of the cottage he and Louis had talked about. He thought perhaps by the sea, near a small town where he could work in a local bakery and Louis could work at the bookshop. He imagined a deep fireplace, a cozy settee and plenty of teacups and books. It was an idyllic thought and Harry almost didn’t hear Liam’s whistle calling them all back together.

“We should head back.” He said as the four of them walked towards the tank. “I’m starved.”

Niall and Shawn came around from the other side of the tank to meet them.

“I think I could eat a horse,” Niall said as the six of them climbed back into the tank. He settled into the seat again, starting up the tank.

Louis took his place at the gun and Harry caught Louis staring intensely at Niall. Harry tapped Louis’s ankle to get his attention. Louis bent down to whisper in Harry’s ear.

“Niall’s shirt is inside out.” He muttered with a smirk. Harry slapped his hand over his mouth to muffle his laugh and Louis smirked.

They arrived back at camp, filing in after the other tanks and groups that had been out for the day. They clamored to the dining tent, where Niall and Louis both ate their own rations and whatever the other boys didn’t eat. Harry laughed out loud at Niall’s descriptions of his mother’s stews and breads. He knew adjectives that Harry had never heard.

“When I worked at the bakery we had this garlic bread that was one of the best things I’ve ever had,” Harry said. Niall’s eyes got wide. “I learned how to make it because it’s so good.”

“Harry Styles,” Niall said looking serious. “Promise me that when this god-forsaken war is over, you’ll have me over for dinner and bake me that bread.”

“I second that,” Zayn said.

“I’ll have you all over,” Harry said, beginning to toss out ideas of things he could make for them. “My mum gave me her Yorkshire pudding recipe and I learned a recipe for creamed spinach from an American woman in town.” Liam smacked his lips, drooling.

“Alright, that’s enough of that, love,” Louis said, patting Harry on the back. “Now that you’ve sufficiently made us all miss real food.”

“I make a pretty good chocolate cake too,” Harry said, teasing, and the five men all groaned good-naturedly.

“It’s settled,” Shawn said. “We’re all going to Harry’s for dinner as soon as we can.”

“I’ll clean the dishes,” Louis said. Harry grinned at him. He imagined Louis there already, helping Harry cook and falling into bed with him at the end of the night. Louis grinned back.

The kitchen tent emptied as the men got ready for bed, filtering in and out of the bathrooms. Harry met Louis behind the kitchen tent after rushing through his evening routine. Louis grabbed Harry by the hands and pulled him into a kiss as soon as Harry was safely out of sight of the rest of camp.

“Listening to you talk about all the food you can make just made me want to kiss you,” Louis said breathlessly. “It’s like you’re perfect, Harry. Did you know that?”

Harry wrapped his arms around Louis, holding him close and kissing him back. “I’m glad you think so. I plan to cook you lots of things in that cottage of ours.”

Louis hummed and ran his fingers along Harry’s jaw. “Ours?” He asked, his voice tentative, in a way that Harry could now pinpoint as Louis’s way of confirming something he wanted to be true.

Harry nudged Louis’s nose with his own. “I’d like it to be. If you would.”

Louis nodded, letting out a relieved sigh. “I would.” He slid his fingers through Harry’s hair.

Harry kissed along Louis’s jawline, nuzzling into his end of day scruff. “I would too.”

They could hear the sounds of the men getting ready for bed in the rest of the camp but in their spot behind the kitchen tent, they could just be.

“Do you…” Louis started, his face buried in Harry’s neck. “Do you ever think we’re moving too fast?” He spoke slowly, nervously. “We’re talking about living together.” Harry tightened his hold on Louis, thinking.

Finally, he said, “No. I suppose if things were different… if we’d met at school or in town then maybe we wouldn’t have moved as quickly. But we’ve known each other for almost a year. Other couples would be married by now.” Harry pulled back to look Louis in the eye. “I knew from the moment I met you, Lou, that you’re special. The more we wrote letters and now getting to spend almost two months together in person only proves to me that I want a future with you.”

Louis grinned and breathed another sigh of relief. “It just seems too good to be true sometimes. It feels like I was meant to find you but it also feels like I could lose you at any moment.”

“I guess you could,” Harry said. “But not because of me. I’d like to stay by your side as long as you’ll have me.”

Louis stood on his tiptoes. “Well, we need time to enjoy that cottage,” Harry smirked as Louis leaned in to kiss him. This kiss was passionate and heady and Harry moaned as Louis pressed himself flush to Harry’s front. They were both hard and Harry felt his desire for Louis bubble up to boiling.

“ Lou,” Harry whispered and Louis moved his hips, creating friction. It made Harry’s heart race. “Christ, Lou. God, I want you.” He gripped Louis so hard he was sure to leave bruises.

A shout from one of the men nearby startled them out of their kiss and Harry and Louis sprang apart, both breathing heavily. Harry gazed around, then seeing they were still alone, grabbed Louis and pulled him back. The moment was over but Harry felt this need to have Louis close flushing through him.

“God, I want a leave with you.” He said, running his hands along Louis’s back.

Louis whimpered. “I want you so much, Haz.” He rested his forehead against Harry’s shoulder.

Harry ran his fingers through Louis’s hair. “Soon.”

Louis took a deep breath. “We should probably get back.”

“I don’t mind Niall catching us but _he_ might mind catching us if we’re that entangled again,” Harry said with a smirk.

Louis chuckled and let his hand rest on Harry’s cheek. “Soon, love.” He said.

Harry’s heart jumped a mile at being called love. It set several things right in his heart. He leaned forward and kissed Louis tenderly. “Night, Lou.”

“Night, love.”

They shared one last smile for them, then stepped apart and steeled their gazes, returning to the hustle and bustle of soldiers getting ready for bed.

 

The warm weather didn’t last long and by the middle of February, temperatures were back near zero. Harry swore he woke up every morning to the same thing:

“Shit, it’s cold.” Niall would say, sighing heavily and sitting up. “I don’t know where my socks are, damn it.”

Shawn, who was normally standing nearby already dressed would hand Niall a pair. “Here, love. Borrow mine.” Every morning it was said just loud enough for Niall and sometimes Harry to hear.

Harry suspected that Niall just wanted something of Shawn’s while they were out patrolling and walking. Harry had told Louis about it and Louis’s eyes had glittered.

“We saw that coming a mile away, didn’t we?” He’d said with a chuckle.

Harry rolled out of bed just as Shawn was handing over another pair of socks.

“Niall, do you give Shawn his socks back or are you trying to make him march barefoot in winter?” Harry asked cheekily.

Niall rolled his eyes and Shawn laughed.

“My mother and sisters knit me twenty pairs.” Shawn said. “They wanted to make sure I never had cold feet apparently.”

Niall stuck his tongue out at Harry and shoved Shawn affectionately as he left the tent. Shawn just shook his head. “I don’t know why I love him, but I’m not fighting it.” He whispered to Harry before following Niall out of the tent.

Harry finished getting ready and made his way to breakfast. He fell into his usual seat beside Louis, who was already in an intense discussion with Zayn about which park in London was better. Louis sounded like he was winning with Kensington.

“I have to agree with Louis here, Zayn. Kensington has the Peter Pan statue.” Harry said as he sipped his tea. “Plus it’s quieter.”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “You have to side with him.” He mumbled, but Louis squeezed Harry’s thigh under the table and Harry found he didn’t mind siding with Louis.

They gathered together and General Bates sent them out in their groups again. Niall, Shawn, Zayn, Liam, Louis, and Harry headed towards the tank they’d been driving for the past few weeks, taking their usual places.

Niall drove calmly, keeping another tank in sight as he went. Zayn and Liam were bantering back and forth about something and Harry caught snippets of something to do with the jazz scene in New York City. Liam had said before that he wanted to travel to New York City to hear the jazz. Zayn had said he wanted to go to New York City to eat. Harry chuckled to himself, wondering if he and Louis would end up visiting New York City with them.

All of a sudden Louis gave a shout, startling Harry from his thoughts. The tank was inundated on all sides by gun fire, causing everything around Harry to rip into chaos.

Liam and Harry popped up next to Louis, guns in hand. The tank began to turn, and Harry, Liam, and Louis aimed at a group of what looked like twenty or so German soldiers just on a ridge above them. Liam popped down for a minute, shouting over the engine to be heard by Niall. He popped back up, and shouted, “Niall’s trying to get us out of range! We can’t let them hit the engine!”

Harry and Louis nodded. Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Louis’s brow furrowed in concentration, taking aim and hitting each of his targets. Harry focused on the soldiers closer in range, taking out two of them before losing all understanding of what was happening.

The tank was upended by a grenade, and knocked over onto its side. Liam, Louis, and Harry each sprang from out of the top and rolled away. Liam crawled back to the opening and pulled Zayn, Shawn and Niall through and the six of them bolted away just as the tank burst into flames.

They ran across the field towards the second tank, which was shooting down the remaining men. Next to him, Harry heard a bullet ricochet off of Shawn’s helmet and Niall’s shout of warning. The next instant, Harry felt an immense pain in his leg and crumpled to the ground.

He lay still for a moment breathing heavily, and felt hands on his back.

“Harry! Harry!” Louis’s voice came through the buzzing in Harry’s ears and he glanced up. His thigh was in pain and he felt woozy… he could just fall asleep…

“Harry, don’t you dare.” Louis’s voice was firm and he ducked to dodge a bullet. “Harry, come on.” Harry groaned and looked down at his left thigh. Blood covered the grass and Harry winced, his eyes tearing up.

“Louis.” His voice came out rough and low, and he winced in pain.

“I know, come on.” Louis lifted one of Harry’s arms, and Shawn appeared out of nowhere, taking Harry’s other arm. The three of them hobbled the rest of the way to the tank just as the gunman killed the last of their attackers. Liam and Zayn stood with Niall who was white as a sheet and let out a crazed laugh in relief when Shawn appeared with Harry and Louis.

“That was close.” Niall said and he gripped Shawn’s shoulder. “Let’s get us back to camp.” Harry nodded vaguely. The pain in his leg was excruciating, and most of his weight was being held by Louis and Shawn. Louis kissed Harry’s temple quickly as Liam pounded on the door of the tank. It opened to reveal none other than George Branson.

“Get us back to camp, we have an injured soldier.” Liam said quickly, shoving past George into the tank. He turned and gestured for Louis to hand Harry over.

“Too much of a girl to fight back?” George sneered as Harry was lifted into the tank, but there was no malice in his statement.This time he just looked frightened.

“Fuck off, George.” Louis said as he climbed in. He kneeled next to Harry and Shawn, Niall and Zayn climbed in. George grumbled but backed off.

“You still with us, Harry?” Shawn asked. “I’m going to look at your leg, alright?”

“Thanks…” Harry sputtered out. Louis grabbed his hand and squeezed it. Hie blue eyes locked onto Harry’s and Harry thought he could die looking into Louis’s eyes.

“We’ll get you to a doctor as soon as we can.” Louis said urgently. Louis smoothed the hair off of Harry’s forehead. “Hang in there. Don’t fall asleep.” Harry wanted to. It hurt so bad. He wondered if they’d chop his leg off.

Shawn was quickly running his fingers along the top of Harry’s thigh. “It didn’t get the artery but you have a lot of blood loss.”

“Are you a doctor, mate?” Zayn asked, incredulous. His voice sounded higher pitched than usual, panicked and worried.

“Nurse.” Shawn replied. “I was planning on going to medical school before the war started. I had my nursing license so I could work during the summers and get experience. Our village doctor needed a hand more often than he liked to admit.”

Harry gripped Louis’s hand and tried to focus on his friends’ voices. Shawn’s calm, matter of a fact tone as he wrapped up Harry’s leg. Louis’s higher pitched, soothing voice, telling Harry everything was going to be alright.

They arrived back at camp and Harry felt exhausted. Niall had kept squeezing his shoulders if he looked like he was about to doze off. Liam bounded out of the tank the minute it stopped and brought a group of nurses over. They gently pulled Harry out of the tank, Shawn watching over his leg and Louis still holding his hand.

Harry was put onto a stretcher, and as he was being carried away, he saw Liam, Zayn, Shawn, and Niall standing by the tank watching him with worried eyes. Louis gripped his hand and Harry’s eyes closed. He felt Louis patting his chest and as he was transferred into an ambulance, he heard Louis whisper in his ear: “I love you, Harry. Please don’t leave me.”

Then he was pulled from Louis’s grip and the door to the ambulance was shut. Harry finally plunged into sleep with Louis’s words reverberating in his mind.

 

The next time Harry woke up, there was bright light around him. He blinked and his surroundings came into focus: he was lying in a hospital bed. A woman with large eyes and blonde hair was standing next to him, smiling.

“Ah, there you are.” She said softly. “Welcome back, Officer Styles.”

Harry shifted and his legs felt stiff. He glanced down. His left thigh was heavily wrapped, but he pivoted his wrists and the rest of him felt fine. “Where am I?” He asked.

The woman checked his pulse. “You’re in London. Had a bit of a nasty scare there. They weren’t sure you’d make it, but you did.” She wrote on a clipboard in her hand. “Your leg is fine, just healing up. You took a bullet to the thigh, but nothing plenty of rest won’t solve.”

“I can still walk?” Harry asked. It was too much to take in. He was in London, away from France, away from war. Away from Louis.

“It will take some time, and plenty of patience on your part, but yes, you’ll be able to walk again.” She adjusted his pillows. “I have to go check on some other patients. I’m Nurse Edwards, if you need anything. Your personal items are on your nightstand.” She gestured to Harry’s other side. She walked away and he turned to see his dog tags, his notebook, his watch, and a few other things on the table.

There was a letter he didn’t recognize, but the handwriting told him exactly who it was from. He reached out, wincing at the soreness in his torso and unfolded the letter.

_Dearest Harry,_

_If you’re reading this, something bad must have happened. I wrote this to either be given to you if I died, or to give to you if you were injured._

_If I’m dead, write to Liam. He has a letter for you from me. I hope it will ease your heart and tell you the truths I couldn’t tell you in person._

_If I’m not dead, and I sorely hope this is the case… know that I love you. More than anything else. Wherever you are, whatever has happened, if you love me too, I’ll come home to you as soon as I’m able. Nothing could keep me from you if you love me in return._

_If I am not dead and you’re in possession of this letter because you’re injured, then please write to me. Tell me you’re alright. Tell me I’ll see you again. Please tell me you love me too._

_Yours forever,_

_Louis_

Harry took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. The last thing he remembered was Louis whispering to him as he was put in the ambulance. Louis had said he loved him. He smiled to himself, and for a moment, he felt both elated and heartbroken. Louis loved him and he loved Louis. But here they were, once again miles apart.

He glanced around the room. He was in a row of hospital beds separated with nightstands in between each one. Several of the other beds were occupied and Nurse Edwards was glancing at another patient’s chart a few feet away.

“Um…” Harry spoke, his voice seemingly loud in the room. “Miss Edwards.” She looked up and strode over.

“Yes, Officer Styles?” She smiled.

“Do you have stationary?” He asked. “I need to write a letter.”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.” She left and returned a moment later with crisp white paper and a pencil. “Will that do?”

“Yes.” Harry said. “Thank you.” He let her help him prop his back up with pillows. He took a sip of water from the glass on his nightside table, then began to write. He wrote freely, with less restraint than he’d allowed himself the whole war. Louis’s letters might still get intercepted, but Harry’s wouldn’t be read, as he was now marked as a civilian rather than a soldier. He could be candid.

_February 22, 1941_

_Dearest Louis,_

_I’m alright. I’m at a hospital in London. I suppose the return address will tell you which one. I’ve just read your letter and you better not be dead. Not after you’ve told me you love me._

_Come back to me as soon as you can. I couldn’t bear to lose you. Not when I love you too. The nurse said that I’ll be able to walk again but it’ll be slow going. I don’t think I’ll be returning to the army. But if you get a leave and can visit, I would love to see you. I wish it was you that I saw when I woke up, rather than the nurse._

_Where are you? Are Liam and Zayn and Niall and Shawn alright? Please tell me you are. What happened after I was shot?_

_Ever yours,_

_Harry_

He sealed the letter and passed it off to Nurse Edwards to mail later that day. Harry stared out his window for the rest of the day, thinking about Louis, dreaming of their future, and wishing for nothing more than to wake up to see his favorite pair of blue eyes looking back at him.

 

_February 28, 1941_

_Darling Harry,_

_I’m so glad you’re alright. I’m so glad. I was so worried. Liam’s been making me tea every night in an effort to lift my spirits till we heard from you. How long will it take to heal? I’m glad you’ll be able to walk again._

_You were shot on February 17. From what I could get out of General Bates, they flew you to London. Shawn guessed you’d have surgery to remove the bullet...I’m glad you didn’t see it. It was gruesome. I’ve never seen so much blood._

_Your regiment moved out yesterday, taking Niall and Shawn with them. It was sad to see them go but we promised to keep in touch and promised to keep each other posted on if we heard from you. I’m writing a letter to Niall after I finish this one._

_Zayn and Liam have been well. Worried about you. And me, I think. George hasn’t given me any problems, so don’t worry about not being able to protect me._

_I hope you don’t mind but I wrote to Lottie about what happened. I promised her I’d keep her updated. I doubt they’ve sent along a letter to your mum or Gemma, I think they only do letters if you die._

_I feel like I’m rambling, but I’m just so happy you're alright. I wish I could leave tomorrow to see you. I want to_ _hold you in my arms so I_ _know for sure you’re alright. The minute I get leave, I’ll be on my way to you._

_Love,_

_Louis_

 

Harry woke up to a stack of letters on his bedside table. His leg didn’t hurt today which was a good sign and he read Louis’s as he ate breakfast. Though it made him ache to be away from Louis, seeing his handwriting and knowing he was alright, was like a balm on Harry’s heart.

Nurse Edwards had told him that morning too that letters to the front would be received and returned faster than letters within the front so Harry eagerly set aside his breakfast to tell Louis the news.

_March 8, 1941_

_Dearest Louis,_

_Yes, I’m alright. I spoke with the doctor last week and he said I should be here for about two months, and that I’ll be bedridden for most of it. I’ll have to practice walking everyday once my leg heals up. At least I can finally read. I have a stack of letters next to my bed to read after I finish this reply. Your letters always take precedent, but I have a few from my mother, Gemma, and Niall in the stack. My nurse said that letters between us will be exchanged quicker now. I’m eager for your replies._

_I’m glad you’re alright, and that Zayn and Liam are, too. Tell them hello and that I miss them. I know you can’t tell me where you are, but please tell me how you really are. I wish you were here so I could see your face and hear your voice and hold you in my arms. I just want to be alone with you. And be safe when you write to me… we’ll be together soon, I’m sure._

_The hospital here is quite nice. I’m in a room with nine other men, and Nurse Edwards looks after us all. None of us are too worse for wear, just bedridden for long periods of time. They’re nice enough, but we’re all rather quiet. Luckily I have a small window near my bed and can see the view of London. It looks a bit run down from the bombing but it’s as bustling as ever._

_I’m glad George isn’t giving you any problems. I’d still like to properly punch him._

_I’m yours, Lou._

_Love,_

_Harry_

Harry addressed the letter and picked up the stack of others. His mother wrote him a short note, saying she wished him to get well quickly and that she would try and visit if she could. Harry wrote back, telling her not to worry, that he’d be home in a few months time. He didn’t want her to waste the money on train fare. He read Gemma’s next.

_March 3, 1941_

_Harry,_

_Little brother, you gave me the fright of my life. I went to tea with Lottie last week. She sat me down with tea and biscuits, which was a shock because she never breaks out the biscuits unless it’s serious. She told me she had received a letter from Louis, telling her you’d been shot._

_Thank goodness the very next day I received a letter from Louis himself, saying he’d heard from you and that you were alright. Not only am I grateful you’re safe and healthy and have all your limbs, but Harry Styles, I must insist you keep Louis. I quite like him._

_His letter was very kind, apologizing for any scare his letter to Lottie might have given me, insisting you were quite alright, that he’d be seeing you on his next leave. He didn’t explicitly say how much he cares for you, but he didn’t need to. The way he wrote of you conveyed his deep affection for you and I’m grateful you’ve found someone to love you so wholly. Please keep him._

_Lottie is becoming such a dear friend. I do hope we’ll stay friends after the war. She’s just lovely and has been such a great listening ear for my stories. She always shares her lipsticks with me too, which are hard to come by out on the front._

_I’ve had a little bit of time to write, although I’ll admit I’ve had a hard time getting back into it since the scare with you being injured. I’ll send a story along in my next letter though, to entertain you on your bed rest._

_Much love from your sister,_

_Gemma_

Harry chuckled and sent out a silent thanks to Louis for reassuring Gemma for him. Harry penned a quick response, asking after Gemma, her writing, her work, and Lottie. Then he went back to his letter to Louis and added in a postscript, thanking him for his letter to Gemma. Finally, Harry reached for Niall’s letter and opened it carefully.

_March 4, 1941_

_Harry,_

_I got a letter from Louis saying you’re alright. You gave us a right good scare, mate._

_Shawn and I are alright. We’re stationed somewhere north, though I couldn’t tell you where. Shawn probably could, he’s good at directions. It’s been a bit quieter since you left, but I’m glad to have him here with me. We want to come visit you on our next leave._

_Write and tell me how you are. Louis said you’ll be able to walk again which is good news._

_Your friend,_

_Niall_

Harry chuckled to himself. Niall wasn’t a wordsmith but Harry felt a bit of relief at hearing from him. He wrote a quick reply, telling Niall to thank Shawn for his help and wishing them well. Harry sincerely hoped he could see them soon. A visit from friends would certainly help lift his spirits.

_March 22, 1941_

_Dearest Harry,_

_I do hope you’re well. I’m dead tired but getting your letter today was like seeing the sun after weeks of rain. Forgive me my phrasing… I think I’ve driven Liam and Zayn batshit crazy with how much I’ve talked about missing you. You’re almost all I can think about. It’s been over a month since I’ve seen you and more than anything I wish I could be where you are. And I know it’s risky to say but damn it, I’ll say it._

_I hope you’ve had plenty of time to read. I expect a complete discussion of Murder on the Orient Express when I see you next. Has Gemma had time to write any stories for you? I got a letter from Lottie saying they’ve had a bit of down time and that she and Gemma went into the local village. Apparently it’s not overrun by Nazis and they had a nice time._

_We’re being stationed somewhere new… I’m not sure where. I know it involves a good amount of walking… Liam’s mother sent him and Zayn and I each new pairs of socks, which was kind of her. I miss you telling me about Niall and Shawn’s sock banter each morning. My feet have been hurting more lately, but I distract myself by thinking of our cottage._

_I would so love to live by the sea. We could have a cottage in town and walk to the beach every day. I have dreams about dinners you’d make us. I promise I’d always do the dishes._

_Please don’t actually punch George. He’s not worth it. And besides, he was sent home last week for improper conduct. He got in a fist fight with one of the other lads. He broke the lad’s nose! So he’s out of my hair and out of yours._

_I miss you. I have so much to tell you._

_Yours,_

_Louis_

 

_April 1, 1941_

_Louis, love,_

_How are you? It’s a bit dull here without your laughter and easy jokes. I miss talking with you in person. The other lads here are alright, but they’re nothing compared to you. I hope you’re well. I miss you._

_Niall and Shawn visited on a leave of theirs a few days ago. They only had four days but they took a day to come see me. They brought breakfast from a bakery down the road, Shawn checked out my leg and assured me that it’s healing well. Niall sang me a new song he’d written (although Shawn said he helped with the lyrics), and they told me about where they’ve been. They’re not far from where we were all stationed together. They bantered like an old married couple, and acted like one too. I don’t think they stopped touching each other for a whole minute while they were here._

_It lifted my spirits to see them. I just went for my first walk the day before they arrived. I could only walk three feet away from my bed before I was out of breath. I know the doctors said it would be a long road but I just want to walk again. I want to be well so that when I see you, we can take a day trip to the sea and walk along the beach. I feel helpless again, without my ability to walk._

_Nurse Edwards says it’s natural to feel like this, and that it helps to continue writing to loved ones. Niall and Shawn walked with me, and I was able to get a little further with their help. Niall joked that we were just three lads going home from the pub with how we were stumbling back and forth._

_I’ve started keeping a journal. It mostly contains my dreams for us. The cottage by the sea sounds just perfect. I’ve started writing down the recipes I know, so I have a list of things to cook for us when we find our cottage. I want to make something special for our first night there._

_I’m glad George is no longer there to give you trouble. And I heard about Gemma and Lottie’s day trip! Gemma told me under no uncertain terms that when the war is over she wants to meet you. She says if you’re anything like Lottie, she’s sure to love you._

_Dreaming of you,_

_Harry_

 

_April 10, 1941_

_Dearest Harry,_

_I’m safe. We experienced some pretty severe bombing last week and Zayn got hit. He was sent to a hospital and is fine as far as we know, but Liam has been having a hard time of it. We have a leave planned for the end of the month. Liam and I plan to go to London. Zayn should be at a hospital there, although we think possibly a different one from you due to the nature of his wounds. He had all his limbs, but he was covered in scratches and one of the men in our regiment thinks he might have had internal bleeding_

_I don’t know the dates of my leave yet, but I plan to spend all of them with you. I don’t care if you can’t run a mile. I don’t care if you can’t walk five feet. Someday you will, and I plan to be by your side for every part of the journey, as much as I can._ _I’ll lov_

_I’m glad Niall and Shawn are doing well. I do miss them… I could use one of Niall’s songs. It’s been a bit grim here. We know that tomorrow we’re doing a slightly more dangerous mission. I can’t tell you what it is because I don’t know yet, but I promise I’ll be in London at the end of the month if they still give us leave. I’m desperate to see you._

_I’ll write more in the next few days._

_Yours, now and always,_

_Louis_

 

_April 12, 1941_

_Harry,_

_I wanted to make sure you knew. We went on a mission yesterday. Louis went missing. There were a number from our regiment who didn’t come back and he was one of them. I’m certain he’s alive but I’m afraid he’s been taken as a prisoner. I knew the army wouldn’t send you a letter. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect him. But don’t doubt that he’ll do everything he can to come home to you, Harry. In this whole war, I’ve never seen him as happy as when he was with you or thinking about you. You give him joy and life and he’s a fighter. He won’t die at someone else’s hand._

_Zayn’s at a hospital in London as well, a different one than you. Perhaps you two can find a time to see each other. I’ll try and visit when I’m in London for leave later this month. They said we should have five days, April 25-30._

_See you soon._

_Liam_

 

Harry woke up to a gentle hand brushing the hair out of his eyes. He hummed and slowly tilted his head into the hand, wondering if his mother had come to visit him after all. He vaguely thought about if he could give her money for the trip home. Instead, he blinked his eyes open and the person who came into focus was none other than Louis.

“Hello, Harry,” Louis said, a soft smile on his face. He was standing next to Harry’s bed, leaning over him, one hand gently brushing Harry’s forehead. For a moment Harry thought he was dreaming. He sat up with a wince, and gripped Louis’s hand, needing to feel that he was real and alive.

“Louis.” Harry tangled his fingers with Louis’s not caring who saw, not worrying at all if someone were to call them out. Relief coursed through him, feeling Louis’s calloused hand in his, running his thumb over Louis’s knuckles. He looked into Louis’s face in awe. “You’re really here?”

Louis nodded. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here a few weeks ago. I broke my promise.” Harry took in Louis’s appearance. There was a gash healing on his cheek, and he wasn’t wearing his uniform. Instead, he was wearing civilian clothes: a soft blue sweater, trousers, and boots. A coat was slung over the chair behind him. There was a bandage on the arm and shoulder not holding Harry’s hand. He looked tired, with bags under his eyes and he looked thin. Harry reached out and ran his hand over the scar on Louis’s face.

“Liam sent me a letter,” Harry said, feeling his eyes tear up. “He said he thought you’d been taken as a prisoner.” Louis looked down at his feet.

“I was,” Louis said. His blue eyes met Harry’s and on instinct, Harry swung his legs out of the bed as best he could. He was stiff but he ignored the tension in his muscles and pulled Louis into his chest between his legs. Louis went easily, like they hadn’t spent almost three months apart, like they were alone in a room where they actually weren’t, and squeezed Harry’s shoulders. His grip was weak but Harry buried his nose in Louis’s neck and wanted to sob in relief. He let tears fall silently instead.

Harry wanted to hold Louis forever but he pulled back to look at him. Louis rubbed his eyes, and Harry let his hand rest on Louis’s cheek, rubbing his thumb over the scar and catching tears as they fell.

“What happened, Lou?” Harry asked. “When I saw Liam three weeks ago he said he hadn’t heard from you either. I thought you were…” He trailed off. He didn’t want to dwell on those dark moments when he’d thought Louis dead. He’d woken up too many nights in a cold panic, afraid he was going to hear through Gemma that Louis had died, afraid he was never going to see him again.

“I was captured with a few other men from my regiment,” Louis said. Harry pulled Louis to his side, and Louis sat on the bed next to them, letting their thighs touch. They pulled their hands away from each other, catching Nurse Edwards’s curious stare in their direction. Louis spoke quietly. “We were prisoners for three weeks.”

“How?” Harry asked, incredulous. “How did you get out? Where did you go?”

“I… created a distraction.” Louis scratched his forehead. “I…” He seemed reluctant to say it but Harry prodded him.

“What?” Harry’s curiosity was peaked.

“I flirted with one of the guards,” Louis said, squeezing his eyes closed and shaking his head. His cheeks turned bright red. “He got so uncomfortable that he left his post for just long enough for us to escape. I was sure the other men with me would turn me in but I think they were just grateful we were free. We spent a week walking back to where we’d last seen our regiment and I was discharged with honors for getting us out of German hands. We had intel too and that helped. I came here as soon as I was able.”

Harry stared at Louis for a moment, at his face colored with worry and embarrassment, then burst into laughter. Weeks of tension and worry flowed out of him as the image of Louis flirting with a guard filled his head. “Louis, you genius, incredible man!” He said with a wide smile, wanting very much to kiss him right then and there.

Louis looked up at him, smiling, but nervous. “You’re not… I mean… I flirted with someone who isn’t you.”

Harry just grinned. “Do you think I care?” He asked. He let his hand rest on Louis’s lower back just long enough for him to speak. “You’re here with me. You were discharged with honors. You’re safe. You came back to me. That’s all I care about.”

Louis laughed out a relieved sigh. “I wanted to come see you as soon as I was out. There was a bit of paperwork, but I’m not in the army anymore. They offered me a promotion or an honorable discharge and the discharge brought me here the fastest.”

“I’m so glad you did,” Harry said. “Liam’s letter wasn’t exactly telling and when I saw him in person a few weeks ago he didn’t have any news.”

“I didn’t get a chance to see him for long.” Louis said. “Just for about ten minutes before I was shipping myself back home. He’d mentioned he’d seen you on his leave though. I was just focused on getting here.”

“And now you are,” Harry said softly, tenderly. He looked at Louis, trying to convey the things he couldn’t with his hands. “You’re home.”

“I am,” Louis said, looking relieved.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked. “You look…” Louis’s bandage looked fresh but Harry wondered how long he’d had to be bandaged for.

“We got beat up pretty good,” Louis said with a sigh. He gestured to his cheek. “This is from a soldier who hit me with his belt. My arm got some pretty bad scratches but it’s healing up alright.”

Harry had to restrain himself from pulling Louis into his arms. He couldn’t imagine anyone hurting his bright, beautiful, perfect love. “I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened to you.”

Louis raised his eyebrows. “You’re not angry. Your heartbeat isn’t racing like it did when George yelled at me in front of the other men.” He stated, and Harry’s eyes widened.

“Oh.” He chuckled to himself. “I mean… I am angry. But I’m happier you’re here. I’d rather focus on you being here than being angry. It’s in the past right?”

Louis smiled at him. “You _have_ been listening to me, haven’t you?”

Harry shrugged. “I’m just glad you’re here with me. There’s not much else that matters to me at the moment."

 

Louis returned the next day with breakfast. Harry woke up once again to gentle fingers brushing hair out of his forehead and he smiled to himself, opening his eyes to take in Louis’s face just above his own. 

“Morning, love,” Louis said softly.

“When you wake me up like that,” Harry said quietly, “you make me want to do things that we definitely shouldn’t do in a public hospital. 

Louis opened the box in his hand, standing in front of Harry’s nightstand, the smell of fresh pastries wafting to him. “What kind of things?” He asked, handing Harry a muffin with a smirk

“Everything,” Harry said, letting his fingers linger on Louis’s. “I like waking up to you.”

Louis pulled a chair as close to Harry’s bedside as he could and leaned on Harry’s bed, munching on his own muffin. “I wouldn’t mind making it a regular thing.” He rubbed his eyes and Harry peeked around the room. Most of the other men were sleeping, so he reached out a finger to trace under Louis’s eyes. They were dark, and Louis’s shoulders sagged.

“Are you alright, love?” Harry asked.

Louis shrugged. “Bad dreams. I rented a room two blocks away, but I’m not used to sleeping in a normal bed or without Liam’s snores or Zayn’s muttering in his sleep.”

Harry let his hand linger on Louis’s face, and Louis nuzzled his cheek in Harry’s palm. “Dreams about your captivity?” Louis nodded.

“I’m one of the lucky ones. My mother went to school with a lad whose father was a POW and she said he was never found. I was only there for a few weeks, they didn’t have a chance to do anything too bad to me.”

Louis shuddered and his face paled, thinking of whatever horrors he had experienced. Harry squeezed his hand and glanced around the rest of the room at the other men in their beds. Harry felt reluctant to ask for more details when they could be overheard. He knew eventually Louis would want to talk more and Harry wanted to hear it. But he wanted to hear it when their afternoons stretched in front of them without end and they could waste away the hours skin to skin.

“Hopefully I’ll be out of here soon.” Harry said, reluctantly pulling his hand away as the man three beds down from him woke up with a snort. “Then you won’t have to sleep alone anymore.”

Louis smiled, a tired smile, but a happy one. “I’d like that.”

“Tell me what the room’s like?” Harry said, taking another bite of his muffin.

“It’s at a hotel not far from here, one of the upper floors so it’s cheaper. With what the army gave me I can stay as long we need to heal you up.” Louis chewed. “It’s your basics, bed, nightstand, desk. The bed is like sleeping on a cloud.” He grimaced.

“Too soft?”

“Yeah. I keep thinking I’ll hear gunshots or bombs or planes but then I look out the window and there’s just the occasional car and people passing by on the street.”

“It’s so normal.” Harry said. Louis nodded in agreement. “It’s odd to not have to be on constant guard.” Harry continued. “I’ve heard some of the other soldiers saying it feels like they’re being lazy without looking out for Nazis all the time.”

Louis chuckled. “I can’t say I mind.”

They finished their breakfast and chatted a bit more, then Nurse Edwards came by to check on Harry. Louis moved to stand at the foot of Harry’s bed, and watched as she checked Harry’s leg and vital signs.

“Nurse, this is my friend Louis.” Harry said, introducing Louis. “We were serving together before I was injured.”

“Lovely to meet you, Officer.” She said with a smile in Louis’s direction. “Are you on leave?”

“No, ma’am.” Louis said. “Discharged.”

“Honorably discharged.” Harry jumped in, trying to refrain from sounding as proud as he actually was. “He rescued several of his men out of a German camp.”

Nurse Edward’s eyes widened. “Welcome home, then. I’m always grateful when more men come home. I like to think it means we’re winning the war.” She scribbled something down on the clipboard at the foot of Harry’s bed. “Would you like to help Harry with his walk today?”

Louis turned and grinned devilishly at Harry, who rolled his eyes. “Let’s get you up then, Harry.” Louis passed the nurse and helped Harry sit up. Harry swung an arm around his shoulders.

“How far do you want to go?” Louis asked, his arm wrapped around Harry’s waist. Harry squeezed Louis’s shoulders. It was unnecessary. Harry had been walking with a cane for two weeks, but he didn’t mind the solid presence of Louis by his side.

“Just down the hallway and back again, I think.”

“Do you actually need me or are you just using this as an excuse to touch me?” Louis whispered in Harry’s ear.

“Definitely just wanting to touch you.” Harry whispered back and the two of them chuckled.               

They walked down the hall and Louis let go, letting Harry walk almost on his own, their arms linked together.

“Did you sleep alright last night?” Harry asked. “Any nightmares?”

“I only woke up once.” Louis said. “I did get checked out by a… a doctor. He said that I’ll have nightmares for the rest of my life.”

Harry reached out and squeezed his wrist. “I might not walk well without a cane again.”

“I guess we can be broken together, then.” Louis said as they turned around for another walk down the hall. Harry thought that maybe the statement should have made him sad. Instead, it made him hopeful.

“All I care about is being able to own a bakery,” Harry said, “and the doctor said I should be able to do that as long as I have a bit of help and take rest as I need it.”

Louis smiled and lowered his voice as they walked past another soldier practicing walking. “Can I expect fresh bread every day?”

Harry chuckled. “Absolutely. Mum says I make the best bread in three towns.”

“I’m hungry already.” Louis said with a smile. “I’m looking forward to all these meals you’ve told me about. I can make tea alright, and toast, but my mother says I’m a bit of a menace in the kitchen.”

“That’s alright.” Harry said, pulling Louis over to bench so he could catch his breath. “I enjoy it. As long as you clean the dishes and read to me, I think we can work out a deal.”

“Ah yes, washing dishes will take a little off my rent, right?” Louis said teasingly. Harry just grinned and bumped their knees together, more than ready for a day when he wouldn’t have to hold back his affection for the man who held it all in his hands.

 

Louis came by every day for a week, bringing breakfast each time, and walking with Harry throughout the day. Halfway through the week, he’d brought along his copy of Murder on the Orient Express and started reading aloud to Harry after dinner. Several of the other men in the room listened in, and Harry saw Louis relax a bit. He came in the next morning looking more and more well rested, the bags under his eyes slowly receding.

Nurse Edwards would sometimes sit and listen to Louis read on her dinner break. Louis had an ability to hold his listeners in suspense, eliciting gasps of surprise and raucous laughter through his narration. Harry took to looking at his hands, doing his best to control the smile on his face. He could easily listen to Louis’s voice all day and his fondness for Louis showed too clearly in his expressions whenever Louis read aloud.  

It was Friday when Harry found the pamphlet in Louis’s bag. Louis had sat Harry down on the bed after their walk and had gone to fetch two cups of tea from the kitchen down the hall. Harry was gently massaging his thigh and thinking that it almost felt back to normal when he saw the rolled up pamphlet sticking out of the front pocket of Louis’s bag. Harry could just see the image of a small cottage, with the words “seaside cottage with view and…” in bold under the photo. Harry pulled the pamphlet out of Louis’s bag.

It was a brochure for houses for sale in Brighton.

Harry couldn’t help the grin that spread on his face. He looked up to see Louis walking past the other beds with two cups of tea in his hands. Louis sat on the bed next to Harry and handed him his cup of tea. Louis was silent and Harry flipped through the pages of the brochure humming to himself, noticing various pen marks Louis had added to several of the images. Stars, checkmarks, and minus signs dotted the pictures.

“I like this one.” He said, pointing to one on the second page. It was blue, with two bedrooms and a bathroom, with a little garden and a pathway to the beach. “It looks cozy.”

Louis hummed. “That’s why I put a star on it. It’s slim pickings what with the recent bombing out there but rumor is that Hitler changed tactics and won’t be bombing the coast anymore. The houses are costing less now than they probably ever will be.”

“That’s good to note. Are the starred ones your favorites?” Harry asked, flipping the pages again.

“Yes.” Louis took a sip of his tea and pointed at another starred cottage. This one was made of stone, with three bedrooms and a new kitchen. “I like that one because we could have more guests. I have a big family, you know.”

“And Shawn said he’s expecting to come to dinner once this is all over.” Harry said. “I think I promised him a roast.”

“Yes, exactly.” Louis chuckled and nudged Harry’s shoulder with his own. “Have you heard from them lately?”

Harry shook his head and grabbed the pen off his night table to add his own markings on some of the houses. “Last I heard, they’d been moving somewhere. Niall told me he’d write as soon as he could."

“I stopped by to see Zayn after I left yesterday.” Louis said, his voice low. “He said Liam’s doing alright, just lonely. Zayn looked well though. He said he’ll be discharged soon and is planning to go home. See if he can find a house for them.”

“That’s lovely.” Harry said, also keeping his voice soft. “We should see him once I’m out of here.” Louis smiled and Harry once again had to fight the urge to pull Louis closer.

There was something about being away fighting, knowing his life was in danger almost every day that had muffled the intensity of Harry’s desire to be close to Louis. Now, back in the relative safety of London and seeing Louis every single day in close quarters, Harry felt he had to constantly remind himself not to touch, not to look too long, not to give any indication that he and Louis were anything more than close friends.

It felt like his heart was caged in his chest, pumping harder with the effort of staying away from Louis. He felt like they were two magnets fiercely ignoring their attraction even though it was their sole purpose: to be together.

Most of the other men were either gone on their midday walks or taking afternoon naps. Harry slid his arm around Louis, his hand resting on Louis’s waist and rested his chin on Louis shoulder for just a moment. Louis sighed and Harry kissed his shoulder before pulling back. It was the first time he’d been able to kiss Louis since they’d been reunited and it made Harry’s whole being ache to hold back more.

“How long before you get out of here?” Louis asked, the longing evident in his voice, even as he spoke quietly.

“Nurse Edwards says I should be free to go next Sunday.” Harry said.

“I’m counting the days.”

“You and me both.”

They grinned dopily at each other for a moment. They looked back down at the brochure when the door at the end of the room opened and Nurse Edwards walked in. She checked on the patients, said a quick hello to Harry and Louis, and walked back out.

“Do you think she suspects us?” Louis asked, looking after her curiously. “Or is she always so no nonsense?”

Harry shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Gemma knew how I was before I did, I think. Nurse Edwards seems like an aware sort of woman. I see her reading the newspaper every morning and the night nurse thinks Edwards is silly for doing so.”

Louis humphed. “Honestly, it’s like some people think women can’t have their own minds. They’ve obviously never met the women in my life.”

They shared a chuckle. Louis paged through the brochure again, Harry occasionally adding marks to different cottages. They kept looking back at the stone cottage.

“Was there a flyer on just this house?” Harry asked, circling the picture of the stone cottage.

“I’ll check when I leave tonight.” Louis said. “I thought I’d stop by and see Zayn too.”

“You can leave earlier, if you want more time with him.” Harry said. “I love having you here but you don’t need to spend all your time with me.”

Louis hesitated. “I don’t want you to think I don’t want to be with you.” He said softly. “I saw how you were after Dunkirk, and I don’t want you to think any less of yourself. You have no reason to but… I know you.” He looked at Harry ruefully.

Harry looked at his lap. “I won’t lie. I do wonder occasionally why you’re still here. You could be back home, with someone else, with your family.” He sighed. “I’m selfish and I love you and I don’t want you anywhere else. I don’t want to share you.” Louis chuckled and Harry continued. “But more than that I want you to be happy. Whatever that means.”

Louis reached out, as if to touch Harry’s cheek, but pulled his hand back and grimaced. “I’m here because I love you.” He chuckled. “But I guess going to see Zayn would put off anyone who thinks we’re together.”

Harry snorted. “We haven’t exactly done a great job of hiding so far.”

“Maybe someday we won’t have to worry about it anymore.”  

 

The Sunday Harry was to be let out of the hospital dawned bright and clear, and Harry was awake even before Louis arrived with breakfast. He sat up, stretching from side to side and smiled. Today was the day he left the hospital. Today was the day he got to go home with Louis.

Nurse Edwards was running him through some last minute care instructions when Louis showed up, brown bag of pastries in tow, his face alight with a bright smile. Harry returned it easily.

“Are you here to escort Harry home, Officer?” Nurse Edwards asked Louis with a smile.

“I am indeed, ma’am.” Louis said with a smile. Harry smiled back, thinking of all the ways he wanted to kiss Louis senseless and how Louis wasn’t just escorting him home. They were leaving together.

“Well then, Officer Styles, you’re free to go.” Nurse Edwards said and chuckled as Harry stood up quickly with a relieved smile on his face.

“I thought you’d never say that.” Harry said. He gathered his things and slung his bag over his shoulder, thanked Nurse Edwards, grasped his cane and walked out of the room, side by side with Louis.

They stepped out the front doors and Harry stood, just for a moment, watching the cars driving by, the people bustling up and down the street, smelling the scents of the city. Louis looked at him curiously.

“You alright, Harry?” He asked with a gentle touch to Harry’s wrist.

“I haven’t been outside in months.” Harry said. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. “Just had my window open. God, this feels good.”

Louis tugged on Harry’s wrist. “Want to go to Kensington? We can walk around a bit before I show you the hotel.”

Harry opened his eyes and smiled slyly at Louis. He leaned in to Louis’s ear and, feeling giddy and bold, whispered, “What if we want to spend all day in bed?”

Louis burst out laughing, causing the curious looks of passerby to glaze over them. Just two lads laughing together. He grinned at Harry and whispered back, “Let’s save that for tomorrow, yeah?”

Harry pretended to pout, but Louis just pulled on his wrist again and led them to the subway.

It was strange, being out in public, in the city. He’d been so used to wearing his uniform, so used to rain and cold. But today, as he sat on a bench in the subway car with Louis, his cane balanced between his knees, he was wearing civilian clothes, it was sunny outside, and he was pleasantly warm. Louis was laughing at something he’d said, something that had nothing to do with the war or with how far they’d walked that day or if they would get their beer ration that night.

It was good. His shoulder bumped Louis’s as the train went around a curve and he smiled. He was dry and his feet didn’t hurt and he wasn’t out of breath from walking up and down the hallway.

Louis nudged Harry’s knee. “You alright?” Harry thought Louis could end up asking him that several times over the next few weeks.

Harry nodded. “It’s hard to remember we’re at war. This feels so normal. Natural.”

Louis hummed. “I agree.” He lowered his voice. “But the paper this morning was just as grim as usual. I do hope the bombing has stopped for good at least.” He smiled then, bright and cheeky, and Harry recognized Louis trying to brighten the mood. “I’d never dreamt I could be riding the subway with someone I love so much. Almost makes it too good to be true.” Louis said softly.  

They shared a soft smile. “Luckily it’s true.” Harry said.

The train pulled into their stop and they excited the subway. They walked side by side, Louis slowing his pace to allow Harry to adjust to walking with the cane.

“Are you finding the cane helpful?” Louis asked. “I mean, is it… are you…” He blushed.

“Are you trying to ask how I like walking with the cane?” Harry said with a chuckle. Louis nodded.

“It’s alright.” Harry said. “Takes some getting used to but it’s better than losing a leg.”

They sat on a bench near the Peter Pan statue and Louis pulled out the pastries he’d brought to the hospital. They sat and ate and Harry relished being outside again, watching the people, talking with Louis in public.

Harry couldn’t kiss him in public, but he could make Louis laugh, which was enough. Harry tried not to think too hard about returning to their hotel room, about getting Louis all to himself for the first time. But the day flew by and after a dinner at a local pub, they were walking up the stairs to Louis’s fourth floor room.

They paused in front of the door and Harry took a minute to catch his breath.

“Stairs.” He said, and Louis, with a quick glance down the hall, rubbed his back.

“Let’s get inside and you can catch your breath.” Louis said, opening the door and ushering Harry into the room.

Harry took off his coat and shoes and sat on the bed, watching Louis shut and lock the door. It was a simple room: a large bed, a wardrobe, a nightstand, a desk. There was a window too, though Harry had little inclination of walking over to see the view. He sat and breathed and watched Louis walk into the en suite bathroom ( _Thank god_ , thought Harry) and grabbed a towel, stuffing it under the door.

He turned around to face Harry, letting out a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing down his body. Harry smirked and Louis smirked back.

“Just in case.” Louis said. He hung his coat on the back of the door, took off his shoes and walked over to Harry.

Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of Louis. He walked differently, without the eyes of the world on him. His hips swayed a bit more, his hands were less rigid at his sides, and he seemed lighter. Harry hadn’t had any reason to notice the tension in Louis’s shoulders until now, when he could see it gone entirely and replaced with fluid, sensual movement. The wrinkles in his forehead that Harry had kissed before were smoothed out now as Louis smiled at him.

“You look different, now that we’re alone.” Harry said as Louis sat next to him at the edge of the bed. Harry wrapped an arm around Louis’s waist, pulling him close. Louis nodded.

“I can let my guard down around you.” He said, and Harry preened. “Mum says it’s how she knew. I walked differently from the other boys. Less burdened, she said.” He played with his fingers in his lap. “She told me that behind closed doors, it didn’t matter how I behaved. But outside, I had to be careful. I think she was afraid I’d get arrested on suspicion alone.”

“Well, I’m glad you were never arrested.” Harry let the cane drop to the floor and shifted so he was facing Louis, his arm still around Louis’s waist. He ran his fingers down Louis’s cheek. “I’ve been dreaming about this. Getting you all to myself. All of you.”

Louis turned pink. “I hope you know what you’re in for. Mum says I can be a bit of a handful.”

“And I’m not? With my temper?” Harry countered. Louis chuckled and Harry thrilled at Louis’s unabashed smile. “We can be handfuls together.”

“Broken handfuls,” Louis said with a grin that filled his face. Harry leaned in and kissed Louis’s temple.

“I have the room till the end of the week,” Louis said. “I got a letter from Gemma yesterday saying that you probably wouldn’t go out of your way to visit, so it’s my job to take you to see your mother.”

Harry chuckled, his fingers still tracing the edge of Louis’s face. “My mum wants to meet you. She said you’re good for me.”

“I think I’m good for you,” Louis said with a smirk. Harry raised his eyebrows.

“I’d almost think that was an innuendo, Lou.”

Louis shrugged. “Go ahead. There’s really only two things I’m thinking at the moment.”

“And what are those things?” Harry asked with a grin. He felt his dimples show and Louis reached up a hand to trace over them.

“I love you,” Louis said with a chuckle and pink cheeks.

“I love you too.” Harry breathed, and Louis leaned in and knocked their noses together. Harry wanted to savor Louis being all his, being alone together. He wanted to go slow, treasure it bit by bit, minute by minute. “And?” He asked.

“Kiss me, Harry.”

So Harry did. He cupped Louis’s neck in his hand and pulled Louis towards him, pressing their lips together. Louis made a satisfied noise, his hand cradling Harry’s cheek.

They sat on the edge of the bed, kissing without urgency. Harry couldn’t help but smile and he let Louis slide his tongue between his lips, licking into each other, hands gripping each other’s waists while they marveled at each other.

Harry pulled back, a bit breathless already, and chuckled.

“Lou, there’s no one here.” He said giddily. It felt like the cage that had settled around his heart was suddenly gone.“I get to kiss you…” he kissed Louis’s lips, “however I want,” he kissed Louis’s eyelids. “I never want to leave this room. I never want to let you out of my arms.”

Louis smirked and kissed him back. “We have to go see your mother.”

“Let’s not talk about my mother.”

“Well then, we want to move into our cottage don’t we?” Louis was grinning too, and Harry was grateful they didn’t have an audience. Louis was shining and Harry suddenly, selfishly felt that he didn’t want anyone else to see.

Harry smiled, feeling like his face might break. “You’re right. I did promise you endless books and home cooked meals didn’t I?”

“I have dreams about that chocolate cake you mentioned.”

“No dreams about me?” Harry put his hand on his chest, pretending to be affronted.

“Oh no, I definitely have dreams about you too,” Louis smirked. “Those are more daydreams though.” He looked down at his hands. “I thought about you all the time when I was… when I…”

Harry grasped Louis’s hands in his own. “When you were a prisoner?”

Louis nodded. “Some days that’s all that got me through. I thought so many times that if I could just make it out alive then maybe I’d see you again. Maybe I could tell you in person that I loved you, rather than just writing it down on paper.”

“You did though. Tell me in person.” Harry said, squeezing Louis’s hands. “I heard you whisper to me before I was put on the ambulance. It’s the last thing I remembered.”

Louis swallowed hard and shook his head once. “I thought you were dying. After you were driven away, Shawn assured me you wouldn’t die but I was so worried I’d never get a real chance with you.”

Harry leaned forward and rested their foreheads together. “But we are here. Just us.”

“For the first time,” Louis said. “No noises of the other men in the kitchen tent.”

“No Niall finding us in… less than appropriate positions.” Harry said with a chuckle. “I hope we didn’t scar him too badly.”

Louis’s eyes went wide. “I forgot to tell you!”

“Tell me what?” Harry asked, curious at Louis’s teasing smile, and gleeful looking eyes.

“It was a little racy for a letter. I caught Niall and Shawn… well… I didn’t interrupt them, I let them be but... I’m sure he and Shawn got up to things on their leave.” Louis turned a bit pink and babbled on. “It’s what sparked this conversation I had with Liam about things we can do together. I asked him about it a few weeks later and he pulled me aside and talked me through things...” He trailed off, pink in his cheeks and eagerness in his eyes.

“He told me so much, Harry, of their life together.” Louis played with Harry’s fingers where they rested in his lap. “They lived like a married couple, shared a bed, shared everything. He’s told me things of a more personal nature too… things I’d like to try with you.” He turned bright red at this but Harry smiled, his dimples making an appearance.

Harry leaned forward. “What were Niall and Shawn doing?”

Louis swallowed. “Sucking each other off. Lying on the ground, side by side. I didn’t exactly have the heart to interrupt.”

Harry’s jaw dropped and he suddenly felt the urge to drop to his knees in front of Louis, which wouldn’t be good for his leg but he hardly felt it in him to care. “We’re going to try that, right?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

Louis hummed and surged forward, kissing Harry with more passion this time, licking into him in ways that sent shivers down Harry’s spine.

“When I said I wanted everything with you,” Louis said, running his fingers through Harry’s hair, his voice low and husky, “that was one of the things I meant.” Harry pulled Louis into his lap, grunting at the pressure on his hips. Louis pulled back.

“This alright?” He asked hesitantly. “Your leg?”

Harry nodded. “It’s alright.” His arms tightened around Louis’s waist. “I like you here.”

Louis smiled and bit his lip. “I like me here too.”

They met in the middle this time, kissing like they had all the time in the world, hands running over chests and waists and tangling through hair. Once Harry got his hands in Louis’s hair, he pulled gently and Louis let out a high pitched moan that had Harry wondering how long it would take for him to learn all of Louis’s noises. He hoped he’d get a long time to discover them all.

Louis’s hands trailed down Harry’s chest, tugging his shirt out of his pants. Without breaking the kiss, he began to slowly, agonizingly unbutton Harry’s shirt, letting his fingers trace along Harry’s chest. Harry followed suit, sliding his hands under Louis’s sweater, drawing circles on Louis's waist and stomach, feeling his warm skin under his fingertips.

Louis finished unbuttoning Harry’s shirt and moved to push it off Harry’s shoulders. Harry whimpered and broke the kiss.

 “I don’t want to stop touching you.” He said, gripping Louis’s waist and taking in Louis’s red and slippery lips, his deep blue eyes, the heavy way he was breathing.

“Well, I want you shirtless,” Louis said, wiggling on Harry’s lap. Harry groaned, feeling Louis’s hardness against his own. Taking advantage of Harry’s momentary distraction, Louis slid the shirt off his shoulders. 

“You fight dirty,” Harry said, his voice low and husky as Louis’s fingers flitted over his chest. In retaliation, he had Louis’s sweater off him in one swift motion. Harry gulped. He’d never been with another man before, but he didn’t need a past to know that Louis was exquisite. He leaned forward and kissed along Louis’s chest, traced a tattoo (Louis had _tattoos_ ) with his tongue.

Harry had wondered before what Louis looked like naked. They’d never had a chance to see each other, even in the showers, and with all the layers, Harry only had a slight idea of what Louis looked like under their uniforms. Now, having Louis shirtless in front of him made Harry feel like the luckiest man alive.

Louis hummed and tangled his fingers in Harry’s hair.

“You said,” _kiss_ , “that Liam told you,” _kiss_ , “things,” Harry said as his lips explored Louis’s chest and arms and neck.

“He did.” Louis sighed happily when Harry sucked on a particular spot under his collarbone. “Lots of things.”

“What kinds of things?”

Louis shrugged and Harry looked up. Louis’s face was bright red, his lips slick and wet, and he was looking at Harry with heady eyes. Harry couldn't help but pepper kisses all over his cheeks.

“Have you ever been with a woman?” Louis asked, fingers dancing across Harry’s collarbone. Harry let his hands rest on Louis’s hips.

“No,” Harry said, biting his lower lip. “But I know the mechanics.”

Louis chuckled. “Liam told me that two men can do something similar. It just takes… patience.” Louis was still bright red, the flush extending down to his chest and Harry kissed his shoulders and neck again.

“I’m a patient person,” Harry said huskily. “And I want that. With you.” Harry took in a deep breath. He’d heard that some men made love like married couples but hadn’t ever imagined he’d get to try it. Now that Louis was in his lap, shirtless and flushed, Harry wanted nothing more than to take Louis apart and let him do the same to Harry.  

“I want that with you too, Harry,” Louis said. This time he smirked. “Which is why I… did a bit of research.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at him. “Research?”

Louis hummed and climbed off of Harry’s lap, ignoring Harry’s whimper and outstretched hands. Louis walked over to the wardrobe and opened it. Harry could see Louis’s uniform hanging aside sweaters and pants and he watched as Louis opened a drawer and retrieved a little bottle from inside.

“We don’t have to do everything tonight,” Louis started as he walked back to Harry. Harry grabbed him around the waist and pulled him back into his lap.  

“Why not?” Harry jumped in. Louis chuckled.

“Because,” Louis said, pressing a kiss to Harry’s lips that pushed him back onto the bed so he was lying down. “We have time.” He kissed down Harry’s neck. “We’re going to buy a cottage of our own.”

Harry moaned as Louis sucked on the skin on his chest, leaving a mark that he tenderly kissed before moving back to Harry’s lips. “Christ, Lou.” Harry panted. “I’m not going to let you leave our bed for a week when we move.”

Louis grinned. “We’ll need practice after all.” He said, his eyes glittering and wicked and Harry looked up at him in awe.

“You’re really, truly mine, aren’t you?” Harry asked, tracing his fingers down Louis’s cheek.

Louis leaned down, resting his forehead against Harry’s. “Yours. Completely yours.”

Harry clasped the back of Louis’s neck but didn’t kiss him. “And I’m yours, right?”

Louis almost growled. “You’re mine.” He said, his arms shaking from how they held him up. “All mine.” Harry shivered, Louis’s possessiveness causing thrills up his spine and blood to rush to his groin.

In one swift movement, Harry flipped them over so Louis was on his back and Harry was hovering over him. “I want to see you.” He said. “Can I see you? All of you?”

He blabbered but Louis knew what he was asking, and nodded. “You too.” He said and Harry sat back on his knees, ignoring the pinch in his thigh, and unbuckled his belt as Louis did.

“You’ll have to get off me if we want our pants off, love,” Louis said, ever the logical one, even when he was more aroused than Harry had ever seen another man.

Harry grinned and stood, sliding his pants and underwear off in one fell swoop. He stood for a moment as the cool air hit him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been naked. But now here he was, standing in front of Louis, naked as the day he was born. 

He looked up at the bed and Louis was naked, leaning back on his elbows, taking in Harry’s form with gentle eyes.

“You know, this is the first time I’ve seen your skin, aside from your face and hands,” Louis said. He reached out a hand and Harry took it. Louis tugged Harry to the bed, pulling him down next to him so they were lying side by side, facing each other. “Can I touch you?”

Harry nodded and Louis reached out and ran his hand along Harry’s side, over his hip, down his thigh and back again. Louis smiled to himself and chuckled. His fingers traced the scar on Harry’s thigh, ran over his hip bone, across his belly, and in the curve of his waist. It was intimate and gentle and Harry felt himself turn to putty in Louis’s hands. 

“You’re exquisite,” Louis said, looking up into Harry’s eyes.

The look of utter awe and adoration in Louis’s eyes caused Harry’s heart to swell. He wondered if his heart would burst out of his ribs. He felt complete, like the spaces inside him that he hadn’t known were empty were now full. Like Louis had waded into the dark corners filled with anger and frustration and hopelessness and left soft orbs of light and joy in his wake. He reached out and pulled Louis’s hand to his chest, his earlier arousal almost forgotten for the moment. Louis smiled softly at him, questioningly.

“There are days…” Harry said slowly, “where I think you might have been just a beautiful dream.” He spoke softly and Louis held his gaze. “Something I would wake up from, only to find myself back in France, fighting this war.” He reached out his other hand and cupped Louis’s face. “This entire war has been bleak for me, Louis. I didn’t understand how to be happy in my circumstances until I met you.”

Louis kissed Harry’s palm, his eyes damp.

“But now,” Harry continued, “I never want to let go of this feeling I have around you. You make me brave, Lou. Like anything is possible.” He blinked, a tear escaping his eyes. Louis reached out a hand and brushed it away gently. “A year ago, I never would have believed I would have found the love of my life or that I’d be planning a life with him.”

“I want a life with you,” Louis said huskily. “More than anything.” 

“And we can have it,” Harry said. “I would never have guessed, and I doubt it’ll be easy, but…”

He trailed off and Louis leaned in, resting his forehead against Harry’s. “It’s ours for the taking,” Louis said. “And maybe someday we won’t have to hide.”

“I can’t wait for that day,” Harry said with a sigh.

“Me neither.”

They lay there side by side, foreheads pressed together for several moments. Harry closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Louis’s breathing, steady and consistent. Harry smiled to himself. They were both less aroused than they’d been but he was alright with it. They had all the time in the world.

“After we see my mum, can we go see your family?” Harry asked, pulling his face back to look at Louis, but resting his arm around Louis’s waist and tracing small circles in his back. “We have to get all your books to our cottage anyways.”

Louis smiled the crinkly-eyed smile that had Harry’s heart skipping beats. “I’d like that.”

Harry hummed and yawned. He suddenly felt exhausted. “As much as I wanted to do everything with you tonight, could we just sleep?”

Louis laughed at this and Harry wondered if he’d ever heard a sound as beautiful. “Sleep sounds just fine,” Louis said, and he climbed to the head of the bed and pulled the covers down. Harry followed him, turning out the lamp on the nightstand, and they snuggled under the covers together, tangling their legs. Harry wrapped himself around Louis, who snuggled his back into Harry’s chest with a sigh.

“Harry,” Louis said once they’d settled. Harry tightened his grip around Louis’s waist at his hesitant tone.

“Yeah, Lou?”

“I...still have nightmares, occasionally,” Louis said. His voice sounded tight and small, as if he was worried about Harry’s reaction, even though Harry already knew and had expected them.

Harry kissed the back of Louis’s neck, nosing at the hair on his head. He couldn’t take Louis’s nightmares away, just as Louis couldn’t heal up Harry’s leg. But Harry could make sure Louis knew he wasn’t alone, could comfort him with reassurances. Hopefully, that would be enough. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Louis nodded, and Harry kept gently kissing Louis’s neck. He hummed a few bars of a lullaby his mother had sung to him as a child, though he couldn’t remember the title for the life of him. Eventually, Louis’s breath deepened and Harry relaxed into his pillow, listening to his love rest before he himself slipped to sleep.

 

Harry woke to movement against his chest and a high-pitched moan. He opened his eyes wearily. The room was still dark but he could feel Louis next to him, still naked and thrashing in his sleep. Harry rolled to his side and slid an arm around Louis’s waist to rub his back. 

“Lou, wake up,” Harry said, the endearments coming out of him with ease. “Darling, it’s alright. Wake up.” He squeezed Louis’s shoulder, speaking quietly.

Louis gasped and his eyes flew open. At first, he didn’t seem to focus on anything, but then his eyes found Harry’s, and he let out a dry sob, dropping his head onto Harry’s chest. Harry wrapped his arms around Louis, holding him close.

“I’m here.” He whispered. “You’re safe.” Louis clutched at Harry and shivered. “Are you cold?” Harry asked. Louis nodded.

“I always get cold after I wake up,” Louis whispered huskily.

Harry turned on the lamp and crawled out of bed. “One minute.” He walked over to his bag and pulled out two sweaters and two pairs of underwear. He passed one of each to Louis who put them on slowly and dressed himself. Harry handed him a glass of water too.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” Louis said, setting the glass on the table. He looked abashed and embarrassed.

Harry crawled back under the duvet, pulling Louis close. Louis snuggled into Harry’s chest, clutching the front of Harry’s sweater. “Nothing to be sorry for, love. It’s what I’m here for.”

Louis rubbed his eyes and Harry kissed the top of his head. “Do you know what time it is?” Louis asked.

Harry checked his watch where it sat on the bedside table. “Early. Do you want to sleep more?” He felt Louis hesitate in his arms.

“I’m right here,” Harry said. “We can just lie here awhile if you want.” Louis nodded.

“Are your nightmares always like this?” Harry asked. Louis nodded again.

“But the doctor says they’ll get better,” Louis said. “Normally they just involve me being tied up somewhere with no way to escape. Trying hard to get to you.”

Harry gripped Louis tighter as if he could show up in Louis’s dreams, untie him and rescue him from his captors. “I’m not leaving you. And I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Louis tucked his face into Harry’s chest. “Thank you.” He whispered. They lay there in silence for a few minutes when an idea occurred to Harry.

“Would you like me to read to you?” Harry asked. “I can read till it’s time for breakfast or until we fall asleep.”

“I’d like that.”

Harry gave Louis a squeeze, crawled out of bed, and walked over to his bag. He pulled out Murder on the Orient Express and walked back to bed quickly. He tucked his cold toes between Louis’s legs, who giggled but squeezed his legs tighter to warm them up anyway.

They settled and Harry opened the book, starting at the beginning. He read until they could see the first streaks of sunlight filtering in through the window, and they could hear birds chirping outside. They heard what sounded like a delivery truck and Louis chuckled when Harry’s stomach rumbled.

“I’ll bring us breakfast up here,” Harry said and moved to roll out of bed.

“No, I’ll go,” Louis said, beating him to the wardrobe. “I can tell them you’re still recovering.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, watching Louis put on pants and his watch. “Well, aren’t you clever.”

Louis walked over with a smirk, kissed him slowly, and exited the room. Harry smiled to himself and pulled his clothes out of his bag, carrying them to the wardrobe to store them.

He liked seeing his sweaters folded next to Louis’s, their uniforms side by side. Harry wondered what sort of wardrobe they’d get for their home, how many bookshelves they would need. He opened a drawer to place a few books friends had sent him over the months he was in the hospital and instead found a familiar stack of letters.

His letters to Louis were tied together with twine, sorted by date. Harry ran his fingers over them carefully and rustled in his bag to put his own letters next to them. He was grinning like an idiot when Louis walked through the door with a tray loaded with breakfast.

Harry sat on the bed and Louis followed suit, setting the tray between them 

“When I mentioned you were still feeling unwell and that I wanted to bring you breakfast, the owner’s wife whipped up this spread,” Louis said. There was tea, with cream, of all things, and sugar in little crystal bowls, a stack of toast with marmalade on the side, four soft boiled eggs, an apple to share, and a large slice of ham.

“How did she scrounge up ham and cream?” Harry asked in awe. “I thought it was impossible with rationing.”

Louis shrugged. “The owner’s brother has a farm outside of London. I’m grateful. I love my tea with cream and sugar.” He proceeded to make himself his tea with happy vigor.

“Do they know I’m up here with you?” Harry asked.

Louis shook his head. “No, I got the room next door for you. We’ll just have to go in there and mess up the bed a bit to make it look like you used it.”

Harry winked. “How should we mess up the bed, Lou?”

Louis rolled his eyes. “I’m in for innuendos and puns for the rest of my life, aren’t I?”

Harry leaned forward. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

Louis leaned forward too with a smile. “Forever then.”

And when he kissed Harry, he tasted of tea and cream and sleep and everything perfect – and Harry was happy.  

 

Epilogue

May 8, 1945

Louis raced down the gravel street on his bike as fast as he could, careful not to topple over. He could just see his seaside cottage up ahead and the news he carried was too important for him to have a fall.

The houses on the lane whizzed by but he ignored them all as he flew towards the front gate. He leapt off his bike and wheeled it through the gate of the stone cottage. He bypassed the blue front door, stowed his bike in the shed at the back of the house and dashed to the back door. The view of the sea that usually caused Louis to pause in awe on his way home from the bookshop barely registered in his eye as he darted inside the house.

“Harry?” Louis shouted, walking down the hall towards the front of the house. The living room and study were empty. “Harry, are you here?”

He heard two taps of a cane from the second floor, from where the bedroom was. He turned around and ran back down the hall toward the stairs and he skidded to a stop at the bottom, Harry’s form paused at the top of the stairs.

“Alone?” Louis asked, though he knew with almost complete certainty that they had their house to themselves. Still, it never hurt to be careful. Harry worked early mornings and would occasionally invite a friend or two over for tea when he came home at three each afternoon.

Harry nodded, his curious smile making Louis want only to ever gaze at his face. “Alone.” 

Louis grinned and took the stairs two at a time. “You’ll never believe it, Haz.” He said when he reached the top. He pulled the newspaper out of his back pocket and showed Harry the headline, wiggling it a little with glee. “The war’s over, darling.”

Harry blinked in disbelief for a moment, then whooped and broke into a grin that showed his dimples. He slid his free arm around Louis’s waist and pulled him to his chest, Harry’s nose nuzzling into Louis’s temple. Louis let out a giggle and Harry bent his head to kiss him on the lips, humming happily.

Louis tangled his hands in Harry’s hair, pulling him closer and Harry’s arm gripped him tighter. Harry hummed again and smiled into the kiss.

“About time,” Harry said, his forehead resting on Louis’s with a sigh. “Perhaps now I’ll be able to make that chocolate cake I promised you.”

Louis chuckled. “That’s how I know I’m with the right man. The miserable war ends and the love of my life thinks about cake.”

“Can you blame me?” Harry asked. “Life returning to normal deserves a celebration with cake.”

“I’ve been waiting years for that cake,” Louis teased. “I can wait a little longer for our celebration.”

They separated with fond smiles and made their way down the stairs, Louis ahead and Harry behind, his cane thumping on each step. There were two things that comforted Louis the most in the world: the smell of his bookshop and the gentle thumps of Harry’s cane. Louis smiled at the sound – a sound that meant Harry was near, safe, and whole.

Initially, Harry had been frustrated with his need for his cane, trying to walk without it when he could and getting frustrated when it ran into walls or was difficult to maneuver. But Louis’s ease around him and the cane helped Harry acclimate and now it was as ordinary to them as brushing their teeth or making toast with their tea.

Louis was grateful. The careful taps of Harry’s cane as he pittered around the kitchen or fiddled with the radio kept Louis from delving too deep in the memories. It was a solid sound, sturdy and grounding when Harry wasn’t within sight or reach. Harry always seemed to know when Louis was feeling haunted… the cane would signal Harry’s nearness and Louis would fall into him easily.

They walked to the kitchen where Louis set the kettle on the stove and Harry retrieved teacups and a few biscuits. They could see the channel out their window, the day a typical rainy and grey one. It was Louis’s favorite kind of day. Seabirds swooped and soared just beyond the shore and a little bit of sunshine peeked through the blinds, filtering onto the table in their breakfast nook where Harry was setting the teacups.

“Do you suppose the boys will be able to visit now?” Harry asked as he opened the tea tin. “I promised them cake too if I remember right.”

Niall and Shawn had both been sent home with minor injuries the year prior but hadn’t made a visit to Harry and Louis. After healing up at the same hospital Zayn had stayed at in London, they’d traveled north to Oxford. Niall had said they’d found a house to share and their letters were full of stories of their antics. They’d taken in a local boy whose parents had both died on the front and were raising him together. Both had found reliable jobs after a bit of a search and Niall was singing in the local pub every Friday night. Louis and Harry talked about visiting to hear Niall sing and were conspiring with Shawn to surprise Niall for his birthday.

Zayn sent letters frequently and had visited Harry and Louis’s cottage by the sea once a year since he’d been released from the hospital. Liam was still on the front but Louis admired his pluck and his ability to keep himself occupied. Zayn had found a house in the north of London and was working as a cartoonist for the Times while he waited for Liam to come home. The letters he sent often included cartoons and sketches.

“I hope so,” Louis replied, sneaking a biscuit away from Harry as he carried them to the table, receiving a playful swat. “I have no doubt Zayn is ready for Liam to be home.”

“We were all so lucky to be together for as long as we were in France. It’s a shame we all got separated.” Harry said. “I can’t imagine having to be separated from you for four and a half years.”

Louis let out a whine and crossed the kitchen to Harry, sliding his arms around Harry’s waist and nuzzling his chest. He knew it was a pitiful gesture, but he didn’t care. He felt Harry’s chuckle in his own chest and something warm filled his ribs – they were so lucky; lucky they’d only been apart for a few months when it could have easily been years, and lucky that Louis had been able to wake up to next to Harry every morning since they’d moved to the cottage.

Harry leaned against the edge of the table, rested his cane against the chair, and pulled Louis into him. Louis often wondered what their neighbors would say, not just about having two gay men in a relationship as neighbors (he could imagine those reactions just fine), but about the nature of his relationship with Harry. He’d always thought that perhaps a homosexual relationship would have a more masculine partner and a more feminine partner.

But his relationship with Harry wasn’t binary at all. If anything, they shared everything, really. Chores and finances and everything else. Occasionally Harry would comfort Louis after his nightmares and Louis would comfort Harry when he was feeling unable to do things he wanted to. But that was just a part of being together as they were, knowing each other for so long.

“We’re lucky, love.” Harry murmured into Louis’s hair with a sigh.

“I’m grateful,” Louis said back, clutching bunches of Harry’s sweater in his hands. “I can’t imagine what Liam and Zayn have gone through.”

“Hopefully we’ll never have to.”

“Can you imagine a world without war?” Louis asked. “Wouldn’t that be grand?” Harry smiled so that his dimples showed and they settled into the breakfast nook by the window with their tea. Louis could sense Harry watching him add his cream and sugar and had to chuckle.

“What?” He asked.

Harry just shook his head. “How you make your tea was one of the first... I guess, domestic things I learned about you, right after I got out of the hospital. I like knowing it.”

Louis smiled and leaned in for a gentle kiss. “I like that you know.”

He rested on Harry’s shoulder, taking a sip of his tea. Harry stared out the window, contemplative.

“I’m a bit surprised, to be honest. That the war’s over, I mean.” Harry said. “There was a time I thought we’d be at war for the rest of my life.”

“I did too,” Louis replied. “It’s gone on so long.”

“Not as long as other wars though, I suppose.” Harry smiled, his dimples showing in the light from the sun trickling through the window. “Perhaps now we can have some peace.”

Louis nuzzled into his collarbone and Harry held him close. They watched the waves wash over the shore, pulling back the suffering of years to the depths of the sea. It reminded Louis that even while the people of the earth argued and fought, the ocean stayed the same, rising and falling with the tides, pushing the sand further inland bit by bit.

Louis could hear Harry’s heartbeat next to his ear and smiled. All was well.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr [here](https://iamasphodelknox.tumblr.com/) and share the Masterpost for the story [here](https://iamasphodelknox.tumblr.com/post/173273414914/title-all-that-you-are-author-asphodelknox) if you like it!


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